Twist and Twine
by Genkl
Summary: As Rhys's one hundredth birthday nears, he reads from his personal journal some events during the eighteen years he's been married. Find out what "happily ever after" entailed for the prince and the sorcerer's wife.
1. Chapter 1: Home

**After reading the book, I immediately came here, and much to my dismay, saw only a few entries. I read "Rhys" and was greatly inspired to write my own TPoB fic. If you haven't read "Rhys" yet, you should.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it.**

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**Chapter 1: Home **

As we soared through the night sky, Matilda, Addie's current apprentice sorceress and my new daughter-in-law, was asking questions about a spell she had learned. She was decades younger than me and was not as bright (I hated to admit), but she had a sweet personality. Unlike Matilda's teacher and Orne, I was glad my son married her. They had been married for three months and had known each other for two years.

Orne blamed me for their marriage because according to him, I was a bad influence on all sorcerers. He constantly berated me about my marriage decision eighteen years ago and the fact that I had seven children with the now thirty-four-year-old Addie. Yes, we had seven beautiful children together. Of course, I thought they were beautiful because of her.

We wanted to have a large family because Addie only had Meryl, and I, being a sorcerer, did not have blood relatives. At first we agreed on three, but then we changed our minds... or we had pleasant surprises. Regardless, I was happy with the number.

We had three boys and four girls, all named after someone significant in our lives. In order, they were: R.J. (short for Rhys junior), age seventeen; Meryl, age sixteen; Rosie (short for Roselina), age fourteen; Daria, age ten; our twin five-year-old boys, Drualt and Gavin; and our youngest at four months old, Eliza. Those seven had stolen my flame and were the driving force behind everything I did. I loved them more than anything.

During our seventeen years of child rearing together, Addie refused to let the nursemaids or anyone else solely care for our children. She insisted on us doing everything, desperately wanting to break the cycle of distant parents and give her heirs something she didn't have: attention from a parent. Growing up, it pained her to have a detached father who never spent time with her. I was glad she at least had Meryl. I made sure I was the complete opposite type of father to my kids; in fact, I knew that I was because I instantly fell in love with my children the moment I laid eyes on their faces, and that love only grew as they did.

Matilda and I were landing on Bamarre castle's battlements when Addie, holding a bundled Eliza, and R.J. approached to welcome us back after being away for six days. We landed in unison, our personalized embroidered cloaks billowing out. Addie embroidered our cloaks as weddings presents to welcome us into the royal family of Bamarre. Mine had a big cursive "R" embroidered on the back with burgundy thread. On top of the "R" was a golden threaded crown with gemstones on the tips to symbolize my title as prince. Matilda's was similar but more feminine. Hers was an "M" topped with a silver threaded tiara and was surrounded by a colorful assortment of flowers from our gardens. Needless to say, we treasured our wedding presents. None of the other sorcerers had embroidered cloaks. We were unique.

Addie was the best needlewoman in the world! I had always said she was a sorcerer with thread. During our eighteen years of marriage, her skills had improved. I didn't even know that was possible but it happened. Now she could embroider so well her creations looked like oil paintings at first glance.

My son rushed over to his bride and twirled her around before kissing her cheek and then lips. "I've missed you, my darling!" he exclaimed

Matilda giggled as she gently held her cheek where R.J. had kissed her. "Dearest, I've only been away for six days." She removed her hand. "You act as if we were gone for a month," she said with her sweet, high-pitched voice.

"I know, but can you blame me, my love?" he asked with a deep voice that sounded much like mine.

Matilda chuckled and then hugged him, clearly amused by his love for her.

Young love.

I remembered being a newlywed like them. Time flies when you have dedicated it to others.

Addie smiled and approached me gracefully, not at all like the nervous Addie I once knew before we married. No, this was Queen Adelina, the heroine of Bamarre. Every young maiden wanted to be just like her. Who wouldn't? She hurled a sword through a dragon's throat, she choked a gryphon with her own hands, she had defeated several ogres, and had forced specters to prophesy for her. The fearless queen even led men into battle. During those eighteen years, Addie learned warfare and trained in many forms of martial arts, becoming the strong leader her father was not. Her knights and soldiers knew better than to oppose her. The only person bold enough to oppose her on rare occasions was our spirited daughter, Meryl. "Welcome home, Rhys," she said softly.

I leaned to kiss her, but I didn't have to bend over too far. After all, she grew to five feet and nine inches tall and I stood six feet and four inches. I grew an inch since our wedding and would possibly continue to grow for another twenty years. My chest also broadened since our wedding. I knew because I'd recently tried putting on my wedding doublet and it didn't fit.

"Thank you. It's good to be home." I looked down at Eliza. She smiled at me, exposing her gums. I smiled back as I stroked her dark brown—nearly black, wispy hair, presumably a combination between Addie's hair color and mine. "Hello, sweetie," I said, using my falsetto. I stood next to Addie and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a quick hug.

Addie yawned, as it was late. "I need to go to bed," she stated.

"All right, give me a moment," I said, finger raised.

R.J. stood in front of me, arms wide open. "Welcome back, Father," he said warmly.

I embraced my son, who was broader but stood one inch above six feet. We assumed he inherited his broader physique from Addie's maternal side of the family, since Addie and I were slender, and he inherited Meryl's strong square jaw. With his black eyelashes, fine gray eyes, and dark complexion, R.J. looked more like Addie than me. However, he did have my high cheekbones and black wavy hair. The only way one could tell he was half sorcerer was if they watched him jump. He couldn't fly, but he could jump high and far. R.J. also took up my mannerisms and personality. We were both attracted to flashy colors, we were both dramatic, and we enjoyed bringing joy to others. Since I believed every male must be a gentleman, I taught him chivalry and manners at an early age. With his dashing good looks and gallantry, he was irresistible to noblewomen. Every ball we had, the young women flocked around him in hopes that he would fancy one of them. Obviously, it didn't work.

While it seemed like my son is perfect, that was far from the truth. He did formulate coherent sentences at the early age of two, but he is a slow learner when it came to his studies, like a sorcerer. And his great passion for music overpowered his desire to be a skilled combatant, which was important for the crown prince to learn for whenever he became king. His mother and sister could very easily beat him in any form of combat. Even I could beat him and I was not as good as they were. Addie and I tried to convince him to practice more but he wouldn't. He would much rather utilize that wide-ranged, deep, resonant voice of his in the form of singing, or play the lute. I didn't have a problem with his musical ability in the least. Addie, Matilda, and I enjoyed listening to his performances. We were very proud of him. I believed I awakened his music ability with the musical clouds I often conjured when he was a baby. I would always remember the way his face lit up and how he clapped with excitement.

I broke our embrace and met eyes with him. "It's good to be home." I glanced at Matilda and back at R.J. "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to retire to my study to watch Eliza for the night." I bowed, mainly to Matilda, to be polite even though I was of higher status as prince consort to the queen than she was as my son's consort.

She curtsied back.

I looked at Addie and held up my arms at chest level to show I was ready to hold Eliza.

Addie carefully transferred Eliza into my arms, and I held her securely.

"Have a good evening." Backward, I lifted into the air and then floated downward until I was in front of the tower door. I took the handle and yanked the heavy door open. Over the years, that wretched door had become heavier. I should probably fix it... sometime later, I thought.

Holding my glowing baton, I entered my study and laid my daughter down in the crib, which was located directly across from the door. Taking a stuffed animal, I played with her until she dozed off. It had been my job to watch our babies at night, since I was incapable of sleep. When we first had R.J., Bella explained to us how it was improper for royalty to exhaust themselves over taking care of their own children. We ignored her. The nursemaids tried helping at night, but I refused because I thought it was silly to have humans lose sleep—something vital to their survival, when I can very easily do it myself. Besides, I cherished those nights I had with them. Addie greatly appreciated me volunteering at night so she could sleep. Bella thought we were ridiculous, but we didn't care.

I drifted over to my cluttered desk. My desk faced the wall and was in between the door and the crib. I waved my baton over the candles to ignite them. A soft glow was all I needed while I read or wrote. I enjoyed doing both, slightly favoring writing. But tonight I felt like reading some of my journal entries to pass the time. If Orne were here, he would have nagged me to study more. But there was only so much studying an individual could do before exhausting their mind.

An hour later, someone knocked on my door. Who could that be?

Not wanting to wake Eliza, I flew to the door and opened it slightly. Surprised, I whispered, "Addie?"


	2. Chapter 2: The Honeymoon

**Warning: Please note that this chapter describes a honeymoon, and as such contains suggestive themes and nondescript nudity.**

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**Chapter 2: The Honeymoon**

Rubbing her eyes, Addie whimpered, "I can't sleep. My body is exhausted, but my mind is not." She removed her hand from her face. "May I spend time with you until I get tired?"

Like the queen needed my permission. Nonetheless, if I wanted to be alone, then she would have left. That's my Addie: always considerate of others. "Yes, of course," I replied, standing away from the door so Addie could enter.

Addie stepped inside and headed over to the crib to look upon our still sleeping infant. I followed and stood beside her, looking into the crib. Addie was silent.

Wanting to resume my reading, I hovered back to my desk.

"I'm so glad we had her," Addie said softly. She looked over her shoulder at me. "You don't suppose we could have anoth—"

"No," I interrupted. "We don't need another."

She turned around to face me. "But why?" she whined.

"We already have seven. Why do you want more?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Our eldest is married."

"Because I love babies," she explained, strolling in my direction.

I knew it. We both liked babies, but they didn't stay infants forever. Even the hybrids grew at a human rate. "They don't stay babies forever, love," I tried reasoning.

I remembered Orne's cold expression and lengthy lecture years ago when he found out I had a third. "Orne will kill me if we have another. Although he did not like it, he understood why we had R.J., the heir to the throne, and Meryl, because she's the 'spare' heir. The rest of them he deems 'superfluous.'" I shook my head. "Besides, he still doesn't know about our four youngest children," I admitted sheepishly. Was this causing her temporary insomnia? I hoped not. "Is this why you can't sleep?"

She frowned like a child. "No," she answered. "Talking to you soothes me at night, and you've been gone for the past few days. I've missed you is all." Standing behind me, she draped her arms over my chest, resting her chin on my head.

I smiled and held her arms. During the times her insomnia returned, and when we didn't have babies to take care of at night, I would snuggle her until she fell asleep. But recently we haven't had the chance.

Addie saw the journal I was reading. "What are you reading?" she asked, straightening her pose.

"I'm reminiscing," I replied.

Addie moved beside me and slid down into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. "How so?"

"Throughout our marriage, I have recorded events in hopes of compiling a memoir someday. I thought it'd be a good idea, since I'm presently the only married sorcerer with children. I'm one of a kind," I finished, winking.

She straightened her legs and kicked them up and down with excitement. "Ooh! Read one to me, starting with our first year of marriage," she requested.

I gazed into her eager eyes. "Shall I start with the honeymoon?" I asked in mock formality.

Addie kissed my cheek. "I command you to."

I chuckled. "All right, my queen." I cleared my throat and began reading.

**. . .**

After Addie said her goodbyes to Meryl at Mount Ziriat, we headed to Queen Seema's castle on horseback. The evening of our first kiss, Addie expressed a desire to see the Haun Ocean one day because, growing up, she had heard from servants of its beauty. Wanting to dazzle her, I hurriedly made the arrangements to stay at Queen Seema's castle after asking King Lionel for Addie's hand. I was granted permission from both sovereigns.

It wasn't hard to convince Queen Seema to allow us to stay at her castle when she heard Addie had eradicated the Gray Death. In fact, she had insisted. The elf queen wanted to hear Addie's tale and become better acquainted with Bamarre's heroine, as she would also someday be queen. Since Addie would be the guest of honor, Seema arranged for us to stay in the finest guest chamber with the best view of the coastline.

Despite traveling a long distance, Addie still wore a form-fitting, burgundy gown made of velvet. The gown was accented with an embroidered, beaded gold trim and the tops of the sleeves had sheer, soft netting that were laced with many burgundy bows. And I wore a royal blue velvet doublet over a loose white undershirt with black breeches and golden spurs on my boots. She was afraid we wouldn't have the chance to change before meeting Queen Seema. Addie had heard rumors about how much Seema emphasized appearances, and not wanting to give a bad first impression, Addie thought it best to arrive prepared.

We made it to Queen Seema's castle and were informed that we would meet her at dinner. At least we were safe and not sorry. The servants showed us to our guest chamber and handled our belongings.

My eyes were bombarded by the saturated blues of the detailed walls and rugs. The compact chamber had a low ceiling—so low, I could have touched it if I reached up. In the center of the intricately engraved ceiling hung a low, unlit chandelier. I could see why the chandelier was unlit: The windows were almost as tall as the ceiling, and the finely woven white draperies were tied back. All the exquisite furniture and accents were silver to create a sharp contrast. The most breathtaking sight in the chamber was the bed. The bed and the drawn back canopy were sapphire-colored, and the pillows were highly embroidered with lighter shades of blue.

A metal bucket filled with ice and two bottles of sparkling wine rested on the nightstand, and two crystal glasses rested in front of the bucket. Curious, I picked up one of the engraved flutes to have a better look. The glass bore an interlocked crowned heart and a flaming heart. Inside the flaming heart was a glittering baton and inside the crowned heart was a threaded needle, representing us becoming one. There was more. I turned the flute around and read the inscription, "Tarry with me, my love, at my side." I sat the flute down on the nightstand. Those were the finest glasses I had ever seen. Then, in front of the glasses, I saw a small red gift box, topped with a white bow. I noticed a folded letter that read "To: Prince Rhys and Princess Adelina of Bamarre, From: Queen Seema of the elves."

Before I could open the gift box, Addie took it and said, "Let's open it at the dinner table. I'm sure Queen Seema would want to watch us open it." She sat the gift back down.

I agreed to wait.

One elf servant pointed at a closed door. "Through that door is a bathroom. Thanks to the dwarfs, elves have indoor plumbing too. We hope it is to your liking." He smiled, bowing.

I nodded at him. "Thank you, kind sir. I'm sure my wife and I will greatly enjoy it," I said, holding Addie's hand.

"Dinner will be served any moment. I will send for you when it's ready," he informed, bowing again.

For a split second I wondered why he kept bowing to me. I wasn't—oh, wait, I was royalty. It felt odd being bowed to, since I was the one who always bowed to others. It was probably going to take a while for me to get used to being treated like royalty.

The elf servants left the chamber, leaving me alone with my bride.

I embraced Addie from behind and trailed kisses from her cheek down to her neck. Eventually my kisses became hungry as I began to suck on her delicate flesh.

Addie moaned and then whipped around, so that she was facing me. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she matched the intensity of my kisses.

My hands began to wander as I slowly led her to the bed.

She bumped into the side of the bed and fell backward, pulling me down with her, just where I wanted us.

Arms trapped under her back, I snaked my tongue inside her mouth and she responded. I relished the taste of her mouth as her tongue touched mine. It wasn't enough. I wanted more of her.

I broke our kiss and planted small kisses along her jaw to her ear and nibbled, making Addie gasp in pleasure. I trailed kisses from her ear, down her neck, and stayed at her collarbone. I could tell by her writhing it was torture.

"Rhys..." she breathed.

Grinning mischievously, I continued down her low-cut square neckline until...

Thunderous knocking on the door filled the chamber. "Your Highnesses, dinner is served," said a servant.

Not now! Why did they have to come now? It was as if they knew and didn't approve of what we were doing.

Addie removed herself from underneath me and stood as if nothing had happened. "Thank you, we'll be right out!" she shouted, taking the gift box.

How could she act as if nothing happened? She didn't act disappointed. Was I not pleasing her? I stood and followed her out, trying not to glower at the servant.

The private dining hall was magnificent. Two sides of the hall were made of windows so one could look out and see the coast. The table was also spacious for the three of us. While we ate, Queen Seema asked Addie various questions about herself. Addie gladly answered and asked the elf queen questions. One could tell Addie was at ease with the welcoming Queen Seema.

Not wanting to offend our hostess, I decided to eat. I'm glad I did. The foreign food was delicious! They served seafood, pastas, and soups. Addie liked the foods too.

The queen asked if we enjoyed having indoor plumbing. Much to her dismay, we admitted we hadn't used the guest bathroom yet. She explained how, thanks to the industrialized dwarfs, who were also their closest allies, the elves had indoor plumbing. Seema expressed a great interest in Bamarre and her kingdom becoming closer, but knew it wasn't possible with a crown sitting on Lionel's head. For the most part, Lionel kept his kingdom isolated from the other races, running it much like he ran his family

The queen asked how Milton fared and if he was doing a good job as a royal nurse, serving at Bamarre castle. Addie replied by telling her how much she adored Milton and how she never wanted him to leave.

"Your Majesty, are you really related to Queen Iola? Milton told me the tale of how Drualt saved her from a flock of gryphons... and how she cured his bunion," Addie laughed.

Laughing with Addie, the blonde, middle-aged elf nodded. "I am," she replied proudly. "I'm glad Milton told you our tale." Seema set her fork down and wiped her mouth on a napkin. "I don't mean to be rude by changing the subject, but I am dying to hear about your adventure, Princess Adelina."

Addie swallowed and then began her tale, starting with me telling her about Meryl having the Gray Death. She told Seema about her initial denial, and then her frustration with her father coming home too soon.

"Yes, I remember your father asking me about a cure," said the queen. "I was confused because if I knew of a cure, I would have shared it with everyone."

We agreed with Seema.

Addie told Seema about how she resolved to save Meryl herself, and how Bella gave her the seven-league boots and spyglass, which once belonged to her mother. Addie placed a hand on my arm and said, "And of course, my husband made it possible for me to find the cure too, for he gave me a shadow cloak, a magic tablecloth, and maps."

"I heard you slayed Vollys. Good riddance," the queen hissed, and then her expression softened back to normal. "How did you manage to do that?"

Addie continued telling her tale, Seema nodding occasionally, all the way through the battle at the Aisnan Valley. Wrapping a hand under my arm, she added, "If it weren't for my dear husband that early morning, I would be dead." I didn't think I was _that_ helpful. "He fought valiantly against the attacking gryphons and ogres. He also stabbed Vollys in the eye, greatly weakening her."

Even though she exaggerated my part in the story, it felt nice to have my beloved give me credit in her adventure. That was my humble Addie.

And then she finished her story by telling Seema about the fairies at Mount Ziriat. "And as you know, he became Prince Rhys and I became a sorcerer's wife," she said, leaning her head on my shoulder for a moment.

Seema met eyes with me. "So, I presume you're King Lionel's current apprentice sorcerer, yes?" she asked for confirmation. The queen took a sip from her glass, waiting for a reply.

"That is correct, Your Majesty," I said with a nod.

"And he allowed you to marry her?" Seema looked at me quizzically.

"I knew for a fact he would deny my proposal," I said. "It sure was a pleasant surprise when he asked if she loved me back."

Wide-eyed, Addie exclaimed, "He did?"

"There's more to your father than you know, Princess..." the queen said carefully, as if not to give us too much information.

Now I was curious. We both looked at Seema, waiting for an explanation.

"What do you mean?" Addie inquired.

A servant came in, bearing a dessert dish.

The queen clapped her hands together. "Oh, look! Desserts!"

As a prince and princess, we knew better than to harangue a queen from a neighboring kingdom. Apparently, Seema did not want to discuss the topic.

The servants served us the desserts: almond custard torte, topped with fruit. Like the main course, it was delicious. We also had blueberry tart, in Addie's honor.

Once we were finished eating dessert, Seema leaned forward, asking, "Did you bring the small gift I left for you in the guest chamber?"

"I did, Your Majesty." Addie placed the box on the table.

Smiling, the queen said, "Open it, it's yours."

Addie tugged the bow loose and slid off the lid, revealing a small plant. Not sure why the queen gave us such a gift, Addie inspected the herb. "Thank you," she uttered, trying to sound polite.

Seema grinned, sensing Addie's confusion. "That herb is the last of its kind. Once consumed, you will never get sick for the rest of your life."

"Really?" Addie asked incredulously.

"Yes," the queen answered. "But it will not render you invincible. You can still die in as many ways as he can," she said, gesturing at me, "but like him, you won't get sick. The enchanted herb will also enable you to live a hundred years from the time of consumption and will slow your aging. So for every two years, you will age one while its powers are active." Seema paused. "But you must eat it now while it's still fresh or it won't have power."

That meant Addie would only age fifty years in the hundred that were promised. Interesting.

Addie readily ate the plant.

"When I heard you married a sorcerer, I felt sorry for him, so I thought the herb would be the perfect gift," she said. "Out of all the humanoid species, you humans die the youngest," she informed.

We thanked her profusely. I was dreading Addie's death in a few decades. One hundred years was still short, though, but better than fifty to sixty-five, like the duration of most human marriages.

"Also, I intended for you to have one of those bottles of sparkling wine during your stay here, and for you to save the other one for your silver anniversary."

That sounded like a great idea. We would do as she suggested.

Queen Seema stood. "Now, if you will excuse me, I shall retire for the evening. If you require assistance, my servants will come to your aid."

We stood as well. I bowed and Addie curtsied.

As she walked away, the elf queen added, "Enjoy each other as much as you can before the children are here." Seema left for her quarters.

Addie looked up at me. "Let's go back to our visitor chamber."

Yes! She wanted to resume where we left off. As we walked back to our chambers, I couldn't help but smirk. But then we got to the visitor chamber and Addie walked past the bed and went straight for a window.

She stared at the late afternoon sky in awe. The white rolling waves added a lovely contrast to the water that stretched as far as the eye could see. The setting orange sun created shadows on the wispy clouds, making them appear pink and violet. "It's so beautiful," Addie stated dreamily.

Apparently I needed to woo her more. "Let's see its beauty in person," I suggested, drifting over to the wardrobe where the servants had hung our clothes.

Addie joined me next to the wardrobe to search for something that she could wear on the beach.

Not wanting to ruin my royal blue velvet doublet, I removed the garment and hung it on a clothes hanger, and then I kicked off my boots and tugged off my hose. My white undershirt was too fancy for a stroll near the ocean and the breeches were too. I removed the shirt and breeches and searched for something simpler. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a now undressed Addie staring at me, blushing. I met her stare.

My boldness must have surprised her. Folding her arms over her bare chest and blinking rapidly, her blush intensified. "Sorry," she murmured, cowering. "Being a princess, I'm still not used to this," she explained, shaking her head.

Why was she embarrassed? Standing beside me was the most beautiful woman in the world, so why was she cowering? We had already seen each other unclothed. Our marriage was consummated after our wedding, and we have enjoyed sharing the same intimacy every night, so why was she still afraid? I didn't understand why she was reverting back to her timid self. My gorgeous wife had nothing to be ashamed of, and I wished such a beauty had more confidence.

"It's all right, you'll get used to it," I reassured her, smiling. Her innocence was adorable but a hindrance at the same time. It was my fault for not telling her how beautiful I thought she was. Maybe then I could help her relax. "During my lifetime I have seen many women, and you are by far the most beautiful one. A beauty like you should not cower in my presence." Then I remembered our agenda and the setting sun. If we took too long, we wouldn't have enough time to stroll on the beach before it got dark. "Come change into something suitable for the beach before it gets too dark outside," I directed kindly. I resumed searching through the wardrobe.

She was still petrified.

I met her eyes. Perhaps she needed logical persuasion. "You'll kill a dragon but not get dressed in front of your husband, your other half?"

Her insecurity instantly lifted. Addie dropped her arms and resumed searching through her side of the wardrobe and found a short strap, cream-colored, knee-length dress that laced in the front. Resisting the urge to gawk at her beauty, I chose to avert my eyes to give her privacy while she dressed just in case she cowered again. Baby steps.

I opted to wear just a loose, white undershirt, similar to the one I was wearing but not as finely made with black breeches. I went over to the window and pushed the doors open.

Confused, Addie turned in my direction and said, "I thought we're going walking."

She probably thought we would walk through the castle to get to the shore. I flew to her and swept her off her feet, causing her to squeak from surprise. I then soared out the window, and after a few minutes, landed on the beach.

Addie squirmed out of my arms so she could spread hers to welcome the ocean breeze. She breathed deeply. "I've never been this close to the ocean," she stated.

I bent over to roll up my breeches. "I figured," I said, straightening my posture, "which was why I arranged for us to come here." We began to stroll on the squishy sand while holding hands.

After a minute or so, Addie glanced over her shoulder and saw our footprints in the sand. Yes, mine too. "You're putting your weight down as you walk," she stated incredulously.

"Why not?" I asked, baffled by her astonishment.

"But I thought you said your natural state is flying or floating."

"It is," I replied. "I can't enjoy the feel of sand between my toes if I'm floating above it. I wanted to share the experience with you, even if it feels unnatural to me." I would do anything for my beloved.

"Oh." She smiled broadly. My honest response pleased her.

While we sauntered along the sand, we talked about various things. Addie told me about how she and Meryl would pretend to find the cure to the Gray Death when they were children. Many of her childhood "adventures" made me laugh. Human children have the greatest imaginations I have ever seen. Then it was my turn. Naturally, I had more stories to share, since I was more than five times her age. I was amazed at how curious she was about my background. She asked me a million questions, from memories of my birth, what goes on at the citadel, and to the different spells I knew how to cast. I could tell she was intrigued by my magical abilities, which made sense. I asked her why she never asked me those things four years earlier. Addie confessed it was because she was infatuated with me ever since she was twelve, which meant, us talking made her shy. I had no idea she felt that way the four years we had known each other. It was actually quite flattering.

I started leading Addie toward the water.

She stopped.

I had a feeling why she stopped. "Don't worry, my love. We won't go far. Just chest deep," I assured her.

Addie followed me until the water was chest level.

Closing my eyes, I breathed in the ocean's salty scent. The cool water felt soothing against my warm skin. It had been at least twenty years since I had been to Haun Ocean. I missed the contrasting feeling of cool against warmth.

An arc of water hit me, drenching my face. Addie's laughter gave her away. Don't start battles you can't finish, was my philosophy. I took full advantage of her laughing stupor by locking her into a bear hug and rocketing several feet above the water. With her screaming in my ear, I flew farther away from the beach, above deeper water.

"Rhys, don't you dare!" she threatened.

I paid her no heed.

"I command you to put me down!" she screamed impulsively.

I grinned mischievously at her literal phrasing. "Put you down? As you wish, Your Highness." I opened my arms to allow gravity to take its toll on my bride.

Screaming, she managed to say my name before plunking into the ocean. Eventually Addie flailed to the surface crying, "Help! I can't swim!" And then she slowly sank until she was out of sight.

My eyes widened. How could I have forgotten? Throughout her life she was a cowardly princess. Why would she know how to swim? I plummeted into the water to fish her out. I gathered Addie into my arms and shot into the air to get her to shore. I laid her limp body on the sand. She wasn't breathing! The moment I placed my hand on her breastbone, preparing to push, Addie spewed seawater in my face.

As I wiped my dripping face, Addie guffawed at me. "You should have seen your face!" she exclaimed, sitting up.

She had bested me. I should have known better than to fall for that one, but the hero in me panicked. That must have been how she felt when the specter impersonating me tricked her. I pointed at the ocean and asked, playfully, "Do you want me to toss you back in?"

Addie scooted away from me and then waved her hands vigorously. "No, no, no! Please don't!" she begged. "I'll behave."

I crawled after her until our noses touched. "Uh-huh," I said skeptically. Then my lips found her mouth.

Addie wrapped her arms around my neck, but in doing so, she accidentally slipped under me and pulled me close so that her legs were straddling my waist. I could tell it was more than what she intended by her surprised expression when she pulled away. "The sun is almost down. We should go back," she suggested.

Why does this keep happening? Groaning, I unwillingly lifted from my position and stood. Why did she stop? We're alone on our honeymoon!

Addie stood in front of me. "I need to get this seawater and sand out of my skin and hair," she stated, disgusted. She stood tiptoe, hands on my chest. "And I command you to help me with this endeavor," she whispered seductively into my ear.

Chuckling at her audacity, I swept her off her feet. "As you wish, Your Highness," I murmured.

I soared back into our already candlelit chamber. The elves must have lit them while we were gone. Still carrying Addie, I pushed the bathroom door open and entered. Surprisingly, there was a large rectangular basin made of stone on the outside and porcelain on the inside, filled with steaming water and floating red rose petals. I sat my bride down and stared in awe with her.

Addie pulled her dress off and stepped into the bath. Her serene expression said it all as she sat down in a corner, exposing her shoulders up. She immediately began washing herself with the supplies provided for us on the rim of the bathtub. This was our first bath together, so she must have felt awkward bathing in front of me, despite making that command from earlier. I still didn't understand why.

While her eyes were closed and her arms were raised, I peeked. I couldn't resist. Before my wedding night, I had never seen a naked woman, so I couldn't keep my eyes off of her exposed body ever since.

Snapping out of my trance before I got caught, I soon disrobed and joined her. I sat in another corner for five minutes. The water felt amazing. The cool ocean was nice, but the bath water felt heavenly. I had a brilliant idea how to make the bath even better.

Finishing off, Addie rinsed and recoiled back into the water, once again, exposing just her shoulders to me.

"You know what would make this bath even better?" I asked confidently, eager to show off my magic.

Wrapping her arms around her bent knees, Addie waited for an answer.

I dipped my finger in, stirred once, and to my absolute shock, a gigantic orange fish, the size of a pot-bellied pig, appeared between us.

Addie's jaw dropped as she sat aghast.

That was definitely not what I wanted! Embarrassed, I muttered, "No. No." I stirred again and then the fish disappeared. I let out a sigh of relief. "Let's try that again," I said.

Addie tensed. "You sure that's wise?"

Slightly annoyed by her lack of trust in my abilities, I replied, "Yes, my sweet. I know what I did wrong." She remained in her corner, though.

I stirred the water again and this time bubbles danced in the water, creating a massaging sensation.

I could see Addie reaching underwater to feel the jet streams I conjured. Winning her trust back, smiling, she crawled over to my side and sat down in front of me.

I smiled back and pulled her toward me to sit with her back against my chest.

"Rhys?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you love me?" she asked, turning around to gaze at me with those sparkling gray eyes.

How was I going to answer that? Of course I loved her, but I never thought about why. That was a trick question. I tilted my head, formulating the right words. My hesitance was making her worry. I could tell by her hurt expression. "Well, you are a kind young woman. You are humble, and your love knows no bounds," I began. I hoped so far my response pleased her. "I know for a fact that if I were dying, you would put yourself in harm's way to try to save me, like you did for Meryl."

I shouldn't have mentioned Meryl.

Addie's eyes drifted from me and moistened.

I put both hands on her face, forcing her to look at me. "No sad thoughts," I lectured softly. "We're on our honeymoon."

She nodded and blinked her tears away.

I put my arms back down. "Also, you made me feel wanted. A lot of humans are intimidated by sorcerers, not realizing we are not as powerful as they think we are. But you gave me the time of day whenever I stopped to talk to you," I explained. "You made me feel important, despite my lesser rank." I paused to think of more. "I'm a long-winded individual, and often times, people interrupt me mid-sentence or tune me out. But you never do. You always listen... or at least you pretend," I joked, chuckling.

Addie laughed.

"Another thing: You allowed me to be your hero. Giving others pleasure, especially in the form of presents, gives me pleasure, but I also love to help people. I was able to provide both for you."

"Yes, you're very good at giving gifts."

Playfully, I pressed my nose against hers and protested, "No, you're good at giving gifts."

She chuckled. "No, you're good at giving gifts."

"You're better," I argued playfully, nuzzling my nose against hers.

"And you're best," she whispered dreamily before putting her hands on my cheeks and kissing my lips. With that gesture, I gladly surrendered. She put her hands down and smiled, remembering my deeds. "Yes," she agreed. "And when I told you I was going to find the cure, you helped me in any way you could, even when it endangered your life," she spoke endearingly.

Now it was safe to move on to the "bonus" reasons. I knew better than to start with the physical reasons to a female human. "And look at you." I gestured at her. "You're gorgeous!"

Confused, she furrowed her brow. "Why do you say that? Even Trina thought I was pretty. I don't see it..." she mumbled.

That's because you're a woman! Females never see what males see. I was beginning to think that all women are blind.

"I'm so skinny I look like a boy," she grumbled.

A boy? Rubbish! "You don't look like a boy," I said. "I can clearly see you are a young woman," I stated, glancing at her water-covered chest, and then back at her face. I could tell she needed more encouragement. I placed both hands on her ribcage and traveled to her narrow waist and slightly wider hips. She had a slender figure. "That is not a boy's figure," I said, trying to prove her wrong. "Your figure is to die for, love." At least I thought so. Her body was my standard, since I had not been with anyone else. I continued feeling. I grabbed one of her legs with both hands and slid them down all the way to her foot. I raised her slender foot above the water and said, "And your human feet are to die for!" I kissed the top of the appendage.

Shocked, Addie gasped and laughed hysterically. I had never seen her laugh that hard. Her laughter was music to my ears, and her jovial expression made her even more beautiful. That's it. She must have been an enchantress. "Well, let's hope our children inherit my feet," she joked.

Laughing at her joke, I placed her leg down. "Have I given you enough reasons?" I asked, hoping she accepted my list.

"Yes," she replied, smiling, still red from laughter. She stood up and reached for a folded towel. "I want to get out," she stated, stepping out of the tub.

I watched her like a hawk as she rubbed the towel all over her body. My wife's body was enticing... and it was all _mine_.

She caught me gawking. Addie halted all movements and glared at me. Wrapping her towel around herself, she asked, "Do you mind?"

I smirked. "Actually, I don't," I said bluntly, knowing exactly what she meant. "Do carry on," I said formally, waving my hand.

Whipping around, Addie harrumphed and continued toweling off, killing my joy. Grinning, I teased, "During our vows, didn't we promise to keep joy in our love? I'm asking because you're killing mine right now."

Addie had enough of my banter. "Goodbye, Rhys," she said flatly. "I'll meet you in the chamber." And she left.

I got out and magically dried myself. Not bothering to clothe or wrap a towel around myself, I went back into the chamber and saw Addie, still wearing the towel, sitting on the bed, pressing her thumb upward onto the cork of the sparkling wine bottle. Not a good idea. With outstretched hands, I offered, "May I?"

Reluctantly, she handed me the bottle.

After sitting down on the bed, I fixed my thumb on the cork and twisted the bottle until I heard a hissing noise. I went over to the flutes and filled them—Addie's glass was half full, whereas mine hardly had anything. Since I didn't drink any beverages to begin with or eat much, alcohol affected me easily. On a night like that, it would be embarrassing. I passed Addie her flute and held mine up. "May we enjoy a hundred years together as husband and wife and a royal couple, surrounded by our many children," I declared. "To marriage," I toasted.

"To marriage," she said in response, clinking glasses with mine.

I drank the contents in my glass and set mine down on the stand, waiting for Addie to do the same.

She set her drink down and gazed at me, anticipating my next move.

I cupped her face and kissed her tenderly. I wanted to express my love in the most intimate way possible, but I didn't want to force her. "You know how I love pleasuring others?"

She nodded silently.

"May I pleasure you tonight?"

"Of course, dear husband," she whispered. Addie removed her towel and sprawled out on the center of the bed. She looked so beautifully innocent. And to think that gorgeous human before me was my wife and would be for a hundred years.

Finally! We would be able to finish what kept getting interrupted.

Using my magic, I untied the canopy strings to give her a better sense of security. The canopy enclosed around us, adding a romantic blue glow.

As I crawled on all fours above her, my flame roared—excitement and something else I would name: desire. Desire for my wife, my one and only, until I die.

**. . .**

"That was a passionate honeymoon. It's no wonder I had R.J. nine months later," the now drowsy Addie chuckled while blushing. The queen sighed at the pleasant memory. "That was such a wonderful day," she said. "I'm glad you recorded it." She stood and stretched and then yawned.

I met her gray eyes and said, "Me too."

Addie looked at the journal I just read from. "How many stories do you have written?" she asked.

"A lot," I replied, turning the page. The next page caught my attention as I read the title "Another Misadventure in Mulee Forest." The memory came to me and I laughed.

My laughter caught her attention. She read the title. "What's this one again?" she asked, pointing.

"How could you forget? This was while you were pregnant with R.J.," I said.

Addie thought about it for a while and then her face lit up with joy. "That's right!" she blurted louder than she intended. We both glanced at Eliza to ensure Addie didn't wake her.

Eliza was sound asleep.

I shook my head. "I'm not going to read another tonight. You need sleep," I whispered. "Come back tomorrow night and I'll read it."

Addie smiled before bending over to kiss me goodnight. "I will, and this time I will bring R.J. and Matilda. I think Matilda will like this one."

"Goodnight, Addie," I whispered, watching her walk to the door.

She stepped over the threshold, partially closing the door, but turned around so that I could still see her face. "Rhys," she whispered. "I command you to read me the next memory," she joked, referencing to the incident from our honeymoon.

I smiled and chuckled softly. "As you wish, my queen."


	3. Chapter 3: Family Dynamics

**Chapter 3: Family Dynamics**

My morning routine consisted of taking care of any of Eliza's necessities before waking the rest of the family. Since I was so determined to care for my young at night while everyone slept, years ago Milton brought us an elven invention called a "baby bottle" so we didn't have to hire a wet nurse when Addie was asleep. Addie insisted on breastfeeding all of our babies, and for me to feed them her breast milk at night with the help of the baby bottles. Bella scolded her, saying it wasn't proper for a royal mother to breastfeed her own children. Addie didn't care what society thought about the norms of royal child rearing. She was determined to be the complete opposite of Lionel, and if that meant she nursed them, so be it. Only when I was away at the citadel did she ask a nursemaid to watch over the baby at night.

I kept a stash of filled bottles in a drawer every night. With my magic, they remained chilled until feeding time. I couldn't say how often Addie thanked me profusely for working the "night shift" when I was home. Taking care of infants at night was difficult for the humans, who required sleep, but not for me. I eagerly awaited nightfall so I could spend alone time with my offspring. I gave Addie my word long ago that I would devote myself to our children by being highly involved in their lives. My children came first and foremost, even over my sorcery. If I had to choose between being the best father to my children or becoming the greatest sorcerer to ever live, I'd pick the former. Nothing is more rewarding than being a parent, and no other love is greater.

I loved being the main caretaker of my babies at night. Having the responsibility of feeding them, bathing them, changing them, and playing with them were my fondest memories. One would assume taking care of babies at night would cause me to fall behind on my studies. That wasn't the case at all. In fact, they helped me study by being good listeners. I would lie down on my couch with the baby resting on my chest, and read the material in my spell books aloud. While the heat of my flame kept them cozy, my deep voice would lull them to sleep. When they woke up crying, I would simply feed them or play with them until they fell back asleep. Caring for infants was a lot easier if you didn't require sleep.

Eventually, when they grew into toddlers and small children, they slept in their own chambers, but would occasionally come into my study when they were supposed to sleep. I had to bribe them with cloud pillows numerous times to make them go back to bed. But sometimes they came rushing into my study, wailing after having a terrible nightmare. Depending on how old they were at the time, I would hold them and use magic to entertain them, and then give them a cloud pillow so that their future dreams would be lovely. My kids strongly associated the cloud pillows with comfort, which was why even the older kids still loved them.

When my kids were older children and teenagers, they would visit me at night if they couldn't sleep. The best way to promote sleep was to read from my study books. Only Rosie was intrigued by the spells; all the other kids would tire quickly after a few pages. At least my goal to help them sleep worked.

In the mornings, some of my kids would already be awake and some would not. Since they were half human, half sorcerer, my children had different sleep patterns. However, all of them required sleep at some point; it was their human blood.

Usually, I woke Addie first to give her Eliza so she could feed and bond with her, and then I proceeded to wake our other children. Now that R.J. was married, I left that duty to Matilda. I was certain he'd rather be wakened by his beautiful wife than his father.

First stop: Meryl, my tenacious daughter. Out of all my children, she and I had the most strained relationship. Whereas I was polite and proper with people, she was not. I tried enforcing manners, which she complied with when she was little, but then she turned into a teenager and everything I taught her vanished. I blamed it on the knights and soldiers she spent her time with nearly every day. Being her father, I had broached the topic before; in one ear, out the other. It would not have surprised me if she tuned me out every time she saw my mouth open. Oh, how much I'd give to fast forward this phase in her life...

I knocked on Meryl's door. "Merry, are you awake?" I asked, using her occasional moniker. We called her Merry especially when Meryl the fairy was present or when we just wanted to call her something different.

Nine times out of ten she wasn't awake. Unlike R.J., who only needed two to three hours of sleep, Meryl needed a full seven to eight hours, just like the average human. Slowly, I opened the door and spied a sleeping Meryl turned onto her left side. The top of her bed touched the right wall, so if she were awake, she would have seen me. Her aunt never slept in like my daughter did. Sometimes I would use that as motivation to wake her because she admired her fairy godmother. Of course, those were the few times I got lucky if she possibly went to bed early, which was practically never. Even worse, she was not a morning person.

I stepped in and said in a normal voice, "Merry, it's time to get up."

Nothing.

"Meryl, get up," I said more assertively. I knew she was awake. She was ignoring me, in hopes that I will give up. I never did, so I didn't understand why she tried. I entered her small, cluttered domain that she refused to have cleaned by the servants and stood next to the bed. "Meryl, breakfast will be served soon," I tried reasoning. "Remember how I told you to go to bed earlier so we could have an early family breakfast before Mother leaves?"

Meryl rolled over and covered her head with the fluffy comforter.

I was actually surprised she wasn't yelling at me yet. At this point, she was usually shouting insults and a fight between us would start. I jerked the covers away from her disheveled head.

And it began.

"Go away, Father!" she growled, grabbing desperately for the covers I had pulled down to her hip.

Before she had the chance to re-cover herself, I yanked them off the bed.

"Are you deaf? I said go away!" she snapped, not budging.

"Meryl, I won't tell you again," I warned, choosing to overlook her insult. "Get up!"

Nothing.

"All right, I warned you." I was not in the mood for her stubbornness (not that I ever was). She was going to regret being disrespectful to me. Flying over to the open window, I took out my baton and guided a cloud half the size of Meryl's bed into the room with a grand gesture, as I always did. With an exaggerated flick of my arm, I pointed my baton at the cloud, filling the room with a great thunderclap.

The abrupt noise made her flinch but not get up.

Then rain fell from the cloud, soaking my grouchy daughter and her bed.

Meryl thrashed up and flashed me a dark glare with her blue eyes she inherited from me, framed by salt and pepper-colored eyelashes. "I'm up!" she cried. "Stop making it rain!"

"Well, get up and you won't get rained on," I retorted.

She roared and jumped out of bed and stomped her five and a half foot self over to me.

I waved my baton, ceasing the rain, and then the cloud went back outside.

"Why did you do that?" she shouted, her long, brown wavy hair spilling over her shoulders. Still scowling at me, she pointed at her drenched bed. "You've ruined my bed!" Meryl hollered, her sun-kissed face reddening. "I'm telling Mother!" Her angry expression strongly resembled Addie's when she was angry, and when Meryl was placid, she strongly resembled her deceased grandfather, Lionel.

"What, that I woke you up after you called me deaf?" I mocked. "It's your fault. I warned you, but you did not listen. Now get dressed," I ordered, pointing at her wardrobe.

Meryl balled her fists and clenched her teeth, trying to think of a comeback. She couldn't, which only fed her flames of rage. "I hate you!" she screamed.

Unfazed by her tantrum, smiling, I replied, "I love you too." I pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

Her temper reached its peak from my affectionate gesture while she was in a livid state. She pushed herself away from me. "Get out of my chamber!" she shouted.

Her yelling was getting on my last nerve, so I left, not because I was trying to appease her, but because after being gone for nearly a week, I wasn't in the mood to argue with her while I still had the other children to wake and greet. I would have a word with Addie about the way she treated me later. Meryl did not respect me like she respected her mother. It was because I wasn't as good at wielding a sword or any type of weapon as she was. Meryl revered warriors and nothing else.

I was relieved that my next stop was Rosie's room. Out of all my kids, she and I were the closest and looked the most alike. My relationship with her was a stark contrast to my relationship with Meryl. It was hard to believe she and Meryl were sisters. Rosie was my quiet, loving child, who connected with nature more than people. Only I was allowed to accompany her nature walks and adventures, which meant the world to me. According to her, R.J. and I were her best friends.

I knocked on her door. "Rosie, are you awake?"

No response.

I slipped into Rosie's chamber. The layout of Rosie's chamber mirrored the layout of Meryl's chamber, though Rosie kept hers cleaner. I had wondered many times if they did that on purpose, since the two were at odds often. Usually, Meryl would start it by degrading Rosie, calling her a coward or weak. Being a sensitive girl, Rosie would end up in tears and Addie or I would intervene. It pained Addie to see her daughters quarrel like enemies, as the behavior was foreign to her.

There she was, sleeping on her left, facing away from me. On average, she stayed up late and slept five hours a night.

I sat down next to her on the bed. "Roselina, it's time to get up," I said, calling her by her real name. I wanted to name her after Addie, but Addie didn't want to, believing she was unworthy to have a daughter named after her. I also wanted to honor a human girl named Rose from my former home village. But now was not the time to talk about Rose—not on my first day back home with my family. Anyway, Addie and I agreed to mesh "Adelina" and "Rose" together, making the name "Roselina."

Rosie's black eyelashes fluttered open, revealing her grandfather's brown eyes. Her skin tone was in between Addie's complexion and mine. Once she saw me, she lurched forward and hugged me. "Father, you're home!"

Her warm welcomes always made my flame burn hotter. I chuckled and kissed her cheek. "Hello, dearheart," I greeted warmly.

"I've missed you," she stated sweetly. Rosie flung the covers away and crawled over to her nightstand on the other side of the bed. She collected a wooden box and crawled back over to me. "Look what I found near Lake Orrinic." There was a small turtle sitting in the corner of the box, munching on some lettuce. "Isn't it cute?"

In moments like those, I often forgot her age. I had never seen anyone love animals as much as she did. "Yes, it's very cute," I agreed, "but don't you think it would be happier in the wild where it belongs?"

Rosie sighed. "I know," she mumbled. "It would be nice if I had another pet." Her shoulders slumped. I had reminded her many times of the castle cats and her own personal cat, but she still wanted more pets. Not even the farmers from my former home village loved animals as much as she did.

"Maybe you'll have a pet dragon someday," I joked.

Her snub nose scrunched in disgust. "No way! I'd never catch one of those! Besides, if I brought it home, Mother and Meryl would kill it in an instant," she said, smashing her fist into her other hand for emphasis.

We laughed together.

I put my hands on either side of her face, pushing her straight, chin-length, light brown hair out of the way. Her facial structure was like mine: almost flat with wide cheeks and high cheekbones. She looked like a female version of me. Thanks to her short hair and face shape, she appeared younger than her age. It also didn't help that she had a child-like innocence despite being fourteen. Something I hoped she'd retain for years.

"You'll come with me to free it at Lake Orrinic, right?" she asked, with a hopeful glitter in her eyes.

I smiled at her innocent expression that reminded me of Addie's when she was the same age. "Yes," I replied.

"Promise?"

I crossed my finger over my chest in an "x" gesture. "Cross my flame and hope to die," I promised. I stood. "Come on, get dressed. Breakfast will be served soon."

As I drifted to the door, Rosie called, "Father?"

I turned around. "Yes, dearheart?" I recognized that unsure tone; something was troubling her. Despite being the opposite gender parent, I read her better than Addie did. I waited for her to finish.

Rosie wet her lips and blinked rapidly, looking everywhere but at me, just like Addie did when she was unsure of herself. Finally, she fixed her eyes on an object in her chamber. "Before you left for the citadel, I heard..."

Heard what? Did she hear what I had hoped at least one of my kids would hear eventually? Did my daughter hear the—

"...that you were supposed to be gone for seven days instead of six," she finished, meeting my eyes.

Oh. That was not what I was hoping to hear.

Rosie smiled. Her smile was too brilliant to be real. I knew that look; she was hiding something from me. Right as I was about to pry the truth out of her, Rosie sprung out of bed and headed to her wardrobe.

I decided to drop the issue, since I was on a timed schedule to wake the other children. "See you at the table," I said, closing her door behind me.

Next was our ten-year-old, Daria, who was named after Addie's mother. She was our stereotypical princess. Daria loved anything pink, frilly, and sparkly. She adored being a princess more than any of our other daughters. Out of all of the kids, she was the most artistic. At a young age, she took up embroidery and drawing, like her mother, but also took up baking. Bella chastised Addie many times for letting Daria bake, and as usual, Addie ignored her. I didn't mind her baking if it made her happy. I had tasted some of Daria's desserts, and I didn't eat on a regular basis. I wanted to show support for my daughter... and they were delicious. Daria assisted in my growth from all her delicious creations.

I knocked on Daria's door.

Like her older sisters, nothing.

"Daria?" I called. Perhaps she was still asleep, which was unusual because she was an early riser. I entered and saw an empty bed. And then it dawned on me: She was going to make cinnamon rolls to celebrate my return. On the rare occasions I did eat breakfast, that was a favorite. Just thinking about the warm, moist, doughy pastries made me salivate.

The twins were last. They were our manifestations of pure energy. And it didn't help that there were two of them and that they did everything together. They must have inherited that endless energy from their aunt because Addie and I were not hyper and never had been.

As minute as it seemed, Addie had Matilda help me wake the twins in the mornings. Drualt and Gavin were natural flyers, and they flew everywhere at full speed all the time. Thankfully, they required a full ten hours of sleep like human children their age and naps, giving us a break from their craziness. I felt sorry for Addie and the nursemaids whenever Matilda and I were gone.

Matilda waited outside their room for me. She curtsied once I stopped in front of her. "Good morning, Rhys," she greeted without using my title. We had been friends for decades and she was my daughter-in-law. There was no need for formal titles in private.

I bowed as usual. "Good morning, Matilda." I gestured at the door. "Shall we?"

She nodded, bracing herself.

I opened the door and found the boys' black-haired heads under the covers, sound asleep in their shared bed.

Matilda took the side farthest from the door while I took the nearest side in case one of them jetted out into the corridor. It had happened many times, and they had broken several vases as a result.

Instead of sitting on their bed, like I did with the other kids, I remained grounded on the floor while waking them just in case they flew away. "Drualt, wake up. It's time to eat," I said, using my normal tone.

Drualt's big, dramatic blue eyes eased open. Like mine, his eyes were ringed by thick white eyelashes. When I looked at my twins, it was like looking at two miniature copies of myself, except for their facial structure, which looked like a combination between Meryl the fairy and Addie's mother. None of my sons looked much like me. If standing side by side, one could tell that I was the father of my sons, but only Rosie bore a strong resemblance to me. The only way one could tell that the twins were half human was the fact that they were children. I suspected that when they become teenagers, they would be mistaken for full-blooded sorcerers. Drualt sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Father!" he cried, hugging me.

The sudden exclamation roused Gavin. Still prostrate, he looked at the source of the commotion and instantly sprung up to hug me. "Father!"

I embraced my sons for a moment, and then I patted them on their backs to get their attentions. "Time to get dressed."

At lightning quickness, Drualt tried to fly away, but I caught his ankle.

"Not so fast," I said, pulling his floating body closer. "You have to get dressed first."

"Ohhh..." they whined in unison.

Matilda knew the drill. She went over the wardrobe and picked out their clothes.

I pulled Drualt down onto the bed and held him in place. "If I let you go, will you behave?"

Smiling, he nodded vigorously.

I removed my hands and was surprised that he remained on the bed, gazing at me with rare guiltless eyes.

Matilda brought over the clothes and began to dress Gavin, the tamer twin. Since the boys mostly took up from their sorcerer side, they were slow learners. Dressing themselves was still difficult for them. In fact, they still couldn't walk on their own weight because they were natural flyers. I remembered when I was born, I didn't know how to walk on my own feet. It took several years before I mastered the unnatural technique. Also, sorcerers were born capable of speech. The twins spoke their first words when they were one month old and were able to formulate full, coherent sentences when they were six months old. None of my other children spoke that soon. Some started talking at a normal human age while others spoke a few months earlier than humans.

After dressing the twins, Matilda and I led them to the dining hall, where the rest of the family was seated. Bella was standing at the table, holding a curious Eliza, so Addie could enjoy a meal and I could have a break from the hours I spent watching her at night. Bella would teach the twins right after breakfast, and then she would eventually teach the rest of the children.

The servants stepped into the hall, bearing breakfast dishes and placed them on the table. Everyone except Matilda and I began to eat. The food must have been delectable because no one spoke for a while.

Addie looked at the twins, who were sitting on either side of me. Addie sat at the end, where the sovereign traditionally sat. She swallowed her food and set her fork down to talk to the twins. "Do you boys know what Friday is?"

They stared at her blankly.

"Your father's birthday is on Friday," she answered.

"Ohhhh..." they said in unison.

"Do you know how old he will be?" she asked.

Puzzled, they looked at each other. They didn't know.

"He's turning one hundred," she responded, smiling.

Their blue eyes widened. "Wow!" they shouted in unison. "That's old!"

"I can count to one hundred!" Gavin cried rapidly. "One, two, three, four, five, six..." he counted in the background, and then Drualt joined.

We all laughed at their honesty. For a sorcerer, one hundred was still young. Physically, I was just about twenty to human standards. I had only aged three human years throughout my eighteen years of being married. Thanks to the herb, Addie aged nine years instead of eighteen, but she aged well, in my opinion. She was no longer the gangly teenager I once knew, which was fine. After having seven kids, she was no longer considered skinny, but she certainly wasn't fat. With her constant war training, she was muscular for a woman. Personally, I thought the weight gain and muscle definition suited her well and made her look more curvaceous.

"And you two are going to give him something, aren't you?" she asked.

They nodded.

Straightening my posture, I looked at Addie. I didn't need any presents. Having them in my life was enough for me. "I want no—"

She met my eyes. "There may be a law against refusing a royal gift," she said, exactly how Meryl did years ago, "_especially_ if it's from the queen, your sovereign." Addie looked at me with playful challenging eyes, as a dare to oppose her.

Defeated, I leaned back in my chair. That was normal. Addie would spoil me in some way and use the royal gift excuse to prevent me from declining it.

Addie resumed eating. "Besides, you wouldn't want me to lock you up in prison again, do you?" she asked before chuckling.

That was an embarrassing moment in my life, one I did not want to repeat in the future. "That was a dark time for all of us," I stated glumly.

We were all silent for a moment, unsure how to respond.

"I never got to hear the full story," said Daria. "What happened?"

I shook my head. "I can't give you all the details now. Maybe some other time," I said, smiling. "I'll probably need a whole night to tell that one."

Daria intertwined her fingers together and placed them on the table. "I can't wait," she uttered.

Gesturing at Matilda and R.J., Addie said, "Tonight tell them about our adventure at Mulee Forest when I was pregnant with R.J.," reminded Addie. "She'll like that one."

I waved my hands and wagged my head. "R.J., do _not_ take Matilda to Mulee Forest when she's pregnant," I warned playfully. "It's a bad idea."

Addie laughed at the memory, and added, "A bad idea, indeed."

Meryl finished sipping her milk. "Tell her about how I killed a dragon."

"You mean how you caused the Great Monster War?" I asked sternly. "That's in the same story as my arrest." I glared at her for having a triumphant attitude. "That was very foolish of you, and you shouldn't be proud of it," I lectured.

Meryl harrumphed and rolled her eyes without Addie seeing.

Rosie chuckled. Bad mistake while in Meryl's presence.

Meryl whipped her head around to glare at Rosie. "How about the story when you flew for the first time and cried like a baby?" she snapped.

"Meryl!" Addie and I chastised in unison.

"At least I can fly forward!" Rosie spat. "You can only fly twelve feet up and can't move."

"It does you no good if you're too chicken to even do it," Meryl snarled.

I hated their bickering. I wished they would get along for once. "That's enough!" I said, voice raised.

Both girls went back to eating, avoiding eye contact.

The fair blonde, blue-eyed Daria lit up when she saw everyone was done with the main course. "Time for cinnamon rolls!" She hurried over to the closed dish that contained the rolls and lifted the lid, releasing steam, before the servant had the chance to move. In sheer excitement, Daria dropped a hot cinnamon roll on each of our plates. Her compact energy and coloration reminded me of her aunt, but with my white eyelashes, big blue eyes, and tall stature, which made sense considering how Addie and I were tall. And from old paintings, it appeared Daria inherited her grandmother's oval face shape. We suspected she'd be pursued once she was of age by many a nobleman and prince.

Bella gasped. "Daria, you're a princess. You're not supposed to—"

"Let her," interrupted Addie. "She's not hurting anyone."

Daria finally made it over to me and dropped a cinnamon roll onto my plate.

Biting into the sticky mess, I tasted a sugary, doughy delight. It was her best one yet. Some of her first creations were burned black or tasted horrible, but this was a major improvement. "Daria, this is delicious!"

She blushed and said, "Thank you."

"I agree," joined R.J. to show his little sister support. "This is fantastic!" I liked seeing my children be kind to each other. R.J. was very sweet to his sisters, something I enforced when he was little. Even now that he was wed, I still made sure he was kind and never spoke maliciously to or about someone. I was the hardest on him because he was my son and the future king. But even with my high expectations, we still had a close father-son bond.

"Thank you," Daria said shyly. Praise made her shy, like her mother.

After everyone was done eating, Addie dismissed us so we could carry on with our day. "Matilda," Addie called before Matilda had the chance to get up, "I need you to come with me to Lord George's castle. Apparently, he's having foundation issues and needs a sorcerer's touch. I want to make an appearance to show my vassal respect."

That was one of the things I loved about Addie. No one was beneath her. There was a reason why the people adored her. Not only was she the kingdom's new, living ideal, but she treated everyone respectfully, regardless of rank.

Matilda nodded. "All right," she responded. Addie did not mind her daughter-in-law being casual with her in private. However, she still respected Addie as her queen and took her assignments seriously.

"Come, Matilda," Addie said kindly, walking out of the dining hall.

"I'm coming too," I said, following.

Addie stopped and looked over her shoulder. "I want Matilda to handle this one for her training," she explained. "Stay here and spend time with the kids. They missed you."

For a moment, I was afraid because the last time Matilda handled a construction issue, she missed a falling stone and nearly had a builder killed. Thankfully, I was there to prevent the casualty by holding up the stone with my magic just in time. "Very well," I agreed, bowing. "I shall await your return, my queen."

As soon as Addie and Matilda left, so did Meryl to study before sparring at the training ground, and R.J. to study and then probably do something musical.

I stood, about to push in my chair out of habit.

"Father, can we go to Lake Orrinic like you promised?" asked Rosie with that same hopeful sparkle in her eyes as earlier.

Saying no to that sparkle was virtually impossible. She was my little girl. Might as well. "Yes, of course," I replied. "Let me know when you're ready and then we'll leave."

Her body language sagged. "Can we ride on horseback?" she asked me timidly.

"Rosie," I began in my fatherly tone, "remember what we talked about?" Riding horseback was uncomfortable. I didn't see how humans tolerated the jarring sensation, but I would for her.

"Please, just this once?" she begged, now standing.

"All right, but next time we're flying," I declared. "Promise?"

Rosie crossed her finger over her chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die." It was our pact gesture that she only did with me.

I sent for a nursemaid to care for Eliza while I was gone. I collected my infant from Bella and waited for the nursemaid. Thankfully she arrived quickly and took Eliza.

Bella walked over to the twins and said, "Come, children."

And the twins raced out of the dining hall.

"Children, wait!" shouted Bella, running after them.

I reached out in the direction of the exit, contemplating helping Bella, but then changed my mind. Bella was used to the challenge.

"Let's fetch the horses from the stables," I said to Rosie.

We left the dining hall together.


	4. Chapter 4: Afternoon Interactions

**Chapter 4: Afternoon Interactions**

We stayed at Lake Orrinic for a few hours, talking before heading back to the castle. Out of all seven, Rosie was the most interested in learning about the citadel because she admired me the most, therefore she wondered what exactly I did when I was gone. But ever since that traumatic incident when she discovered her flying ability, she has shunned testing the limits of her sorcerer side. I hoped she wold fully recover from the incident, and I would do anything to help.

When we returned home it was lunchtime. I joined my kids at the table for a while, but then I decided to stay in my chamber to study the material covered at the citadel. I must study during the day and night or else I'd fall behind and Orne would lecture me about it being my family's fault. While that was mostly true (the rare months I did fall behind), I still didn't want him throwing it in my face all the time. Sometimes I wished he wasn't so blunt. Sure, his bluntness was helpful when applied to testing my abilities as a sorcerer, but I wished he would lay off the family topic for once. However, his lectures about my personal life have lessened every year since the Great Monster War.

Hours later I needed a break from my studies, so I played with Eliza until she fell asleep. I wanted to see Daria, since I didn't get the chance to visit with her in the morning. Her door was open, so I entered unannounced; she did not mind. Daria was sitting on a pastel pink satin pillow she had placed on the floor and was wearing a matching dress. The walls were pastel pink and the carpet was hot pink. Practically everything in the chamber was an array of pink.

"Hi, Father," she said sweetly, without lifting her head. She was concentrating on her bead embroidery.

I took one of the many pillows piled at the top of her crowded bed and joined her on the floor. I was too lazy at the moment to summon a cloud to be my pillow.

With disappointed eyes, Daria looked up at me and said, "But I want to sit on a cloud pillow. They're softer," she stated as she flipped her medium-length curls she inherited from Lionel's mother, over her shoulder.

I inwardly groaned and advanced to the open window. I summoned two clouds to enter, and then I shaped them into pillows. Holding out a pillow, I said, "Come get your pillow."

Daria hopped up and took the pillow. "I love these things! They're so much softer than regular pillows. Thank you, Father!" She pranced back to her spot and dropped onto the pillow.

I followed and did the same with less enthusiasm.

She turned to me and asked, "Can you make them rain?"

I looked at her with disbelief. "Why do you want me to make them rain? They'll drench the floor," I laughed.

She giggled. "Because it would be funny!"

Her strange logic amused me. Smiling, I shook my head and added, "I'm not going to make them rain. I would never give anyone such a pillow."

Daria continued giggling at her suggestion.

Pointing, I looked at her project and asked, "What are you embroidering this time?"

"A coin purse," she replied proudly. "See?" She held it up.

The small purse was the size of my palm and had a drawstring on top. The colorful beaded flowers popped against the black background. I recognized the embroidered flowers; they were from the garden. Her embroidery looked so intricate. I didn't see how both Addie and Daria did embroidery so well. Both of them tried numerous times teaching me the tedious art. It didn't work. My embroidery was more tangle than stitch.

"It's beautiful," I remarked, turning it in my hands. I gave it back to her. "You're a sorcerer with thread and beads, Daria."

Her fair cheeks flushed. "Thank you," she murmured. "They're not very good. Mother is better."

Humble just like Addie. Those were the exact words Addie said the first conversation we shared after I complimented her embroidery.

"But they're _very_ good," I said, exactly the same way I said to Addie when she was twelve. "Besides, you also have a gift for baking, something your mother can't do," I added, trying to reassure her.

Uncomfortable with the praise, she changed the subject. "I have your birthday present picked out," she stated ecstatically.

I leaned closer to her. "What is it?" I asked, not really wanting an answer.

"I'm not telling!" she giggled.

Grinning, I warned, "You better tell me or I'm going to—" I quickly tickled her sides.

Daria burst out in a laughing frenzy. She laughed so hard her face reddened and her eyes filled with tears of glee. When she was smaller, we would play tickle monster, but now that she was older, I passed the game on to the twins and saved the occasional tickles with Daria for times like these. "Don't!" she cried in a playful protest. "Stop!"

"'Don't stop?'" I quoted her words, fully aware of what she really meant. "All right." I kept tickling my most ticklish child.

"No!" she cried, laughing. "Stop, I'm going to die!"

Her exaggeration made me laugh while tickling her. Dramatic just like me.

Eventually, she ran out of breath, so I stopped and sat on my cloud pillow again. I could tell I was red from laughing too. As she resumed embroidering, upon request, I told her about the battle at the Aisnan Valley for what seemed like the hundredth time. She loved stories, especially fantastical ones. When it came to adventures, she wanted to have them but not slay the dragon. Leave adventuring to the hero, was her mentality. She longed to be the damsel in distress. I hoped one day she will find a hero to sweep her off her feet.

After visiting with Daria, I passed by the music hall, where I heard R.J. singing with his resonant baritone voice, while playing the lute I found at the citadel. I gave it to him for his sixteenth birthday—the big one for Bamarrians, because sixteen was considered a milestone. The lute I gave him always played in tune and never needed maintenance. According to R.J., it was the best gift I had ever given him.

I entered while he was still singing, facing away from me, and sat on a pew. I could tell he was feeling the music by the way he was swaying. That was what I liked about his performances: He would get lost in the music. I enjoyed seeing people come alive when they sang or clashed swords. The type of art mattered not; passion was passion.

When he finished I applauded.

I saw him jump. He obviously wasn't expecting an audience. R.J. spun around. "Oh," he uttered. "Hello, Father. Have you been there long?"

"No," I replied, "but long enough to hear your wonderful singing."

He smiled modestly, and I saw Addie in him. "Thank you."

"Well," I said, standing up, "I just came in to hear you sing for a bit." I started side-hovering to get out of the pew.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow?" he asked.

I couldn't recall Addie telling me to do something. "I don't think so. Why?"

"I want to give you your birthday present in advance, but your schedule needs to be open because my present isn't at the castle."

Now I was curious, but I'd be patient. I was certain that whatever he had planned I would adore and cherish it for years to come. R.J. was good at giving gifts. It must have been from his desire to bring joy to others. Like father, like son. "I look forward to it." I made it out of the pew.

Before I had the chance to exit, R.J. said, "Are we still meeting in your study tonight for Matilda and me to hear the story?"

I nodded. "Yes." I was glad he remembered. "Come after the twins are asleep," I instructed.

R.J. nodded. "See you then."

The rest of the day was uneventful. I played with the twins before going to the training grounds to watch Meryl practice. She may not have liked my appearances at her practices, but I went anyway to show support. Meryl may have shunned me, but I would never do the same to her. I loved her too much, and there was nothing she could do to change that.

The training session ended. The knights and soldiers shook hands and laughed with each other, Meryl included. One young knight embraced her, whereas another kissed her cheek. It was her sweetheart, Sir Edward. Being a knight, he was in his twenties, which we didn't mind as long as he was a gentleman, and he was also Lord George's son. I would say they might get married, however, her courting history said otherwise. Unlike me, Meryl had already been in three relationships before Edward. Settling down was not her style.

Edward spied me sitting on the spectators' seats and waved.

Meryl looked up and did nothing. Not a wave or a smile.

I knew better than to wave at her. Once I saw her leave, I left. She was returning to the castle for dinner.

Usually when Addie went somewhere, she was back around dinnertime. The servants informed me she had returned home. I wanted to visit with her privately before dinner was served. Yes, we are dedicated parents, but we also wanted to maintain our bond by taking advantage of all private moments we had time for. Privacy was a rare, precious thing we treasured as a royal couple and parents of seven children. We treasured it so much we arranged date nights once a month to keep the romance alive in our marriage. Most royal marriages were arranged and loveless, but not ours. We took the Bamarrian marriage oaths seriously, not wanting us to become a "married but single" couple.

As I went to her chamber, my flame burned hotter. Even after eighteen years, seeing her still excited me. She was my best friend and lover, and I hers. We had so many great memories together throughout the years. Sometimes I wished she had more free time like when she was the princess, but deep down I knew it wasn't feasible now that she was queen. I was proud of her for being a devoted sovereign to her kingdom.

Since we're husband and wife, I entered her chamber without knocking and saw her sitting in a chair, feeding Eliza.

Looking up at me, she said, "Good evening, Husband."

I drifted to her. "Good evening, Wife."

We kissed.

"How fare the children today?" she asked.

"They were well. I went to Lake Orrinic with Rosie after breakfast."

Addie tilted her head with interest. "She went to the lake with you?"

"Yes," I replied, smiling.

Addie smiled back at me with relief. "That's good. Hopefully that means she's recovering."

For the longest time Rosie refused to go to Lake Orrinic to avoid re-experiencing the terrible memory. She recently stopped associating the lake with her fear, but she still firmly associated flying with fright.

I frowned. I hated how Rosie shunned the thing I liked most about my species. Flying while carrying her was something special we shared for years until she was eleven when the incident happened.

Addie knew why I was frowning. She was very good at reading me. "I know you want her to fly again, whether it's with you or by herself, but you have to remember she had a traumatic experience."

I sighed. I understood what she meant, but I still didn't like it. "I know," I murmured. "It's just that I miss those days when I would take Rosie flying over Bamarre when she was small. She loved it," I said, remembering the laughs we had shared in the sky. "And even though she had that unpleasant experience, I was still ecstatic when I found out she inherited my flying ability." Before having children, I secretly wished my offspring would be able to fly.

Addie placed a sympathetic hand on my arm. "I know it hurts, darling. Just give it time," she urged. "I'm sure someday Rosie will want to fly with you again. She loves you dearly. You're her best friend and hero."

I knew she was right about how Rosie felt about me, but giving it time was easier said than done. Excluding the twins, I felt like my children mainly took up after their human side, which made sense because they were born with blood-pumping hearts and a need for food and sleep. Sometimes, because their humanity was so prominent, I felt like I was their adopted father.

"I assume you recorded that incident in your journal."

She was correct. I responded with a slight nod. I was still upset and Addie could tell. "I feel like the kids are yours and I'm their adopted father," I mumbled, eyes focused on the paisley-patterned magenta carpet.

Stroking my arm, Addie said, "Rhys, look at me."

I complied.

"I know it's easy for me to say that because I gave birth to them. But you are their father no matter what abilities from you they have or lack. Your legacy lives on in them." Addie made a come hither motion.

I obeyed by bending over.

She placed a loving hand under my chin and stared into my eyes. "You are a wonderful father. Don't ever doubt your importance in their lives. All right?"

Her words of encouragement moved me deeply. Addie had a silver tongue with me. Whenever I was down, Addie was always there to lift my spirits with her loving words. She patted my cheek and said, "No more sad thoughts."

I covered her hand with mine and smiled.

Eliza finally finished nursing.

Addie stood and passed Eliza to me. "Hold her while I find something else to wear," she instructed.

Holding our precious infant daughter, I sat down in the chair.

While she searched through the wardrobe, I remembered the dressing incident from our honeymoon and chuckled.

She looked over her shoulder. "What's so funny?"

"I'm just remembering how at Queen Seema's castle you were afraid of disrobing in front of me," I replied, still chuckling.

Addie slipped on a simple, long-sleeved, royal purple gown with gold trimmings. I remembered back when she was a maiden how she would wear drab colors. My influence probably helped change her color palate to jewel tones and brighter colors. "But can you blame me? I was still adjusting to my new role as a wife. Princesses are raised to be proper ladies. Disrobing in front of a man is forbidden."

Her logic made sense... to her. I decided to drop the matter. I caught her looking at her stomach, sulking. I knew exactly what she was thinking, and I didn't like it. "Addie, stop it," I chastised.

She rubbed her small stomach pooch, still sulking. "It's getting bigger," she whined. "I'm fat."

I was baffled by her harsh criticism toward herself. "'Fat?'" I quoted. "You're being too hard on yourself. You just had a baby four months ago... and it was your seventh after having twins," I reasoned. There was no way she was going to shrink back down to her teenage size.

"I know," she murmured, easing her hands down. "It's just that you have barely changed and now I'm fat."

She was _not_ fat! Why did human women criticize themselves over ridiculous things? Why couldn't they ever see their own beauty? That was something I noticed about Addie throughout the years. Ironically, when she was a teenager, she complained that her lanky figure was too boyish for me, and now almost twenty years later, she complained about the opposite. Human women are perplexing! "Addie, you're not fat. All I see is the beautiful mother of my children," I reassured her, perhaps in vain, but I still tried. "And you knew I was barely going to age throughout our marriage when you accepted my proposal." Then I had an idea.

Before she could walk away, still holding Eliza, I flew to her so intensely that she stepped back until she bumped into the closed wardrobe and gazed into my determined eyes. Placing my left hand eye level on the wardrobe, I purred, "You are my fantasy." I kissed her boldly. "And every year that fantasy grows and grows."

Addie turned red and smiled broadly. I could tell that I had fulfilled one of my many duties as a husband by lifting her spirits. She must have started to feel nervous because she blinked rapidly and took Eliza from me. I would never understand how she could make men tremble with just one look, yet I could make her cower from my bold displays of affection. But usually she cowered when I showed my affection in front of our children. However, when we were alone, my wife could be a sultry vixen.

Dropping my hand, we went to the dining hall to have dinner with our kids.


	5. Chapter 5: Firstborn

**Chapter 5: Firstborn**

Our children were delighted that their mother was home at a reasonable hour. They hated when she returned late, causing her to miss having dinner with them. Of course, on those days, Addie never intentionally neglected her loves. She tried everything in her power to make it up to them the following day or as soon as possible. Meryl especially hated the distance between them. Out of all seven of them, Meryl favored her mother—her idol—the most. Through rigorous training, Meryl aspired to be a better heroine than Addie someday. Like Drualt before her, Queen Adelina, the Gray Death's eradicator, became our kingdom's ideal, and Meryl took pride in being her eldest daughter. Meryl felt pressured to be just as good as or better than her mother. Despite the way she treated me on a regular basis, I was proud of her having ambition to pursue her dream. If only R.J. had the same level of ambition...

After the family was done eating, R.J., Matilda, Addie, and I went to my study to hear me read "Another Misadventure at Mulee Forest." All three of them sat on my couch, which was on the opposite wall of my desk. I turned my chair around so that I faced them and held the journal in my lap. "Another Misadventure at Mulee Forest," I read aloud.

"This is the second time we went to the Mulee," interrupted Addie, crossing her legs. "The first one was during my adventure when the specter impersonated him and almost led me into the underground passages," she said to R.J. and Matilda.

She was right. I shuddered at the memory. Remembering the first specter encounter still angered me. Pushing the unpleasant memory aside, I held the page in my hand. "This is the first one as husband and wife," I added.

I began reading.

**. . .**

A month after our wedding, I returned from one of Lionel's assignments. After being away for two days, I was excited to see my beautiful bride and to be home, of course. The castle residents treated me with more respect now that I was their prince. Some servants in the past had treated me like an outsider because I was a sorcerer, a member of the enigmatic, magical species. However, my work with Lionel carried on as normal and he acted as though nothing had changed.

It felt odd having him as my father-in-law, something I never thought would happen when I first met him, and I was certain he felt the same about me. I highly doubted he expected to have a sorcerer son-in-law someday. I wondered how that would feel to a human parent to have their child married to a member of another species... It was probably odd. To break the awkwardness of the situation, I tried initiating numerous conversations in hopes of also forming a familial bond, but to no avail. Through his silence and aloofness, Lionel's actions told me he was not interested in growing closer, and it hurt, since I loved people so much. I had a ray of hope that Lionel would warm up to me now that we were family, but my logical side expected him to act as he normally did. The optimist in me had to at least try and do what I thought was the right thing. It just didn't make sense why he granted me permission to wed his daughter out of love if he really didn't care for Addie, and then not show an interest in becoming involved in our lives. Something wasn't right, and I was sure Addie was just as mystified.

Commoner marriages were the complete opposite. Once a couple married, the in-laws became _too_ involved and overbearing. All my life I had heard horror stories about meddlesome in-laws. Being the gregarious individual that I was, I wanted Lionel to be a stereotypical in-law and drive me insane. At least then I would know he loved us. I hardly even noticed I had a father-in-law with how distant he kept himself from me. It still felt like he was simply my king and employer. I wondered if he even liked me... Then again, if he didn't, he wouldn't have allowed me to marry into his family. I just didn't understand why he was so distant toward me. I wished he would give me an indicator that he liked me a little bit. I thrived off of affection and company from others, and when I didn't receive any, I withered.

A servant handed me a folded note. Curious, I opened the note and read. It was from Addie, instructing me to meet her in the old courtyard at nine in the morning. Strange. We never met there. The last time we went there together was before we were married when I accidentally forgot my cloak on Addie's shoulders. Nonetheless, I complied with her request.

I made my way to the old courtyard and didn't see Addie, so I sat on the old wooden bench and waited. I didn't have to wait long—Addie came rushing at me from around the grapevines.

I stood, preparing to bow, but she came at me so quickly I was afraid I wouldn't have been able to bow in time. Our marriage did not change my need to bow to her. After all, she was my fair lady, and I would continue to do so until she said otherwise. I grew up having a strong sense of chivalry—it was part of who I was and nothing would change that.

Her gleeful expression made me smile as she dashed into my open arms. Her momentum made me take a step back. Thankfully, I was standing on my own weight or else she would have plowed right through me. She held me so tightly I couldn't breathe. "Rhys! I'm so happy to see you!" she exclaimed, face buried in my chest.

I had no idea why she was so excited to see me. I hadn't returned from a lengthy ceremony at the citadel.

Panting, Addie looked up and held on to me as if she were tired. As far as I knew, she hadn't been running for too long, so her shortness of breath was odd. It reminded me of the Gray Death. Could it be back with a vengeance from Vollys's dying breath? Now I was worried. I cupped her face. "Addie, you're panting from little exertion," I stated worriedly, "just like when Meryl had the Gray Death."

She laughed, and I could tell it was at me. "No, no. The Gray Death is gone, remember?"

Maybe I'm overreacting, I thought. Then what else was causing the shortness of breath? "Are you sick?" I felt her forehead with the back of my hand. Thanks to living primarily among humans all my life, I knew how to detect and treat fevers.

"Well, this morning I woke up nauseated," she said, smiling.

I didn't feel a temperature, so I put my hand down.

Why was she happy to be sick? I didn't get it. I thought humans hated being sick. This was confusing. "Are you catching a cold?" I inquired.

Now it was her turn to cup my face in her hands. Still smiling with the biggest smile I had ever seen her wear, she shook her head and giggled. "No, silly. I'm pregnant." She stroked my cheek. "You're going to be a father."

For a split second, I thought my flame had snuffed. Me, be a father? I knew it was bound to happen, since it was my duty as Prince to enable Addie to have heirs to the Bamarrian throne, but it was so sudden. We had only been romantically involved for a month. Admittedly, I wanted to be married for at least a year, maybe even two before having children, but it was fine. We would have another family member to celebrate with us on our first year anniversary. I was terrified and excited at the same time. "Have you told your father yet?"

Removing her hands from my face, her expression changed to a scowl. "No," she murmured. "I wanted to tell you first because you're the father."

I was flattered by her consideration, but I felt like telling Lionel was the right thing to do. "Don't you think we should tell him?" I asked. "After all, he is the grandfather, and the baby will inherit the throne."

She sighed. "Very well," she agreed reluctantly. "Let's go tell him."

I could tell she was not looking forward to sharing the wonderful news with her indifferent father. I took her hand and said, "We'll tell him together."

"He's not going to care, you know," she grumbled.

I ignored her. I didn't like her pessimism, but I understood why she felt that way.

Holding hands, we strolled back into the castle and asked for an immediate audience with the king. An audience was granted, but not an immediate one. Lionel had a meeting with his councilors over matters I did not know. It must not have been a very important one because it was over quickly. We were granted entry and stood before him while he remained seated. I bowed.

"Good morning, Daughter," he greeted serenely, and then nodded at me, "and Son-in-law. What brings you here?"

"Father," Addie hugged me from the side and placed a hand on my chest, "we're going to have a baby."

Stunned by the news, Lionel opened his mouth to say something, but no words came. He probably wasn't expecting to become a grandfather so soon. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Addie nodded vigorously. "Yes, Father."

His expression went from stunned back to serene. The corners of his mouth curled upward; he was smiling! I almost thought Lionel didn't know how to smile. "Your mother was your age when she was pregnant with Meryl," he stated. "Congratulations, Addie. I'm happy for you."

I had to keep from dropping my jaw and widening my eyes. Did Lionel just show emotion? That was the most emotion I had ever seen him show in the four years I had known him.

And then something else happened I couldn't believe: Addie went up to Lionel and hugged him! She must have been so excited about her news and the fact that he responded positively that she forgot who she was hugging.

Lionel's eyes widened from Addie's affectionate gesture. He didn't move for a while, but then he awkwardly patted her back twice. It was a start, I supposed.

Addie rejoined me at my side. "Rhys and I are going to Mulee Forest to get a specter to prophesy the baby's gender." She balled her fists and held them under her chin with eagerness.

I whipped my head to the side and looked at her incredulously. Mulee Forest? Was she insane? The pregnancy was getting to her. Over the decades, I had heard of the infamous "pregnant brain" that women suffered from, but I didn't think my tranquil Addie would succumb to it.

"I'm so excited!" she squealed. "Let's go, Rhys," Addie said, taking my hand and leading me out of the council chamber.

Maybe I didn't hear her correctly. Did she really say we were going to Mulee Forest? I must have been hallucinating. Addie hated Mulee Forest. I couldn't believe she wanted to go. She must have really wanted to know the baby's gender. It didn't matter to me as long as it was healthy. I had heard horror stories about babies being born prematurely or with other abnormalities, or even stillbirths and miscarriages. I could only pray that my child was healthy.

My child.

Who knew how long it would take for my mind to absorb that concept. After all, sorcerers did not have children. Orne had told me about sorcerers getting married and having children in the past and how it hindered their abilities. He guaranteed that doing both would make me an incompetent sorcerer. Being married hadn't changed anything for me. During the day, I carried out my duties for Lionel and at night I studied. But that would probably change once the baby arrived. I refused to be a distant parent to my offspring. I saw how much it pained Addie to have an indifferent father. I would not put my child through the same turmoil. I was already in love with the baby and Addie hadn't even started showing yet.

We arrived at Mulee Forest. I was scared that a specter would somehow get the best of us with their deceptions. Hand-in-hand, we marched onward, agreeing to not let go even in the tight areas, and to trust no one. While leading, I noticed Addie was tense, so I squeezed her hand to comfort her. I stopped walking and faced her. "We don't have to do this," I reasoned. "Either way, the baby will be loved."

"But I want to know if our first will be a prince or a princess," she said with determination. Addie stepped closer to me with excitement. "Just think of how Meryl will react once I tell her the news! I hope it's a girl!"

I understood why Addie was thrilled, but I really didn't think it was wise to come here while she was expecting. With my other hand, I stroked her cheek. "The reason why I'm suggesting we leave is because you are trembling. I don't want anything to happen to the—"

"Meryl!" shouted Addie. She released my hand and ran deeper into the forest at what appeared to be Meryl. It was more than likely a specter. Why would the real Meryl meet us here?

I grabbed for her, but was too slow. "Addie, no!" I flew to catch up to her and restrained her from behind.

"Rhys, let me go! It's Meryl!" she snarled, struggling in my firm hold.

With strength I never knew she had, Addie stomped on my foot, causing me to loosen my grip.

While I impulsively cradled my aching foot, she scurried away from me and into the doppelganger's arms.

"I saw that you were planning to come here to seek out a specter, so I decided to join you. This will be our first adventure together where I am a fairy!" said the specter.

Addie's squealing and hopping made her look ridiculous. It was absurd! Why did she believe this? The specter was playing her like a lute. It was so pathetic it was painful. Was the baby draining her intelligence too? It must have been, because Addie was a smart young lady—too smart to be gulled this easily. Although, Meryl did tell Addie that she would visit often and be there when she least expected. For the past month, Addie wanted nothing more than to embark on her first adventure with Meryl. She was so excited, she fantasized about it constantly. There were times when Addie worried that Meryl possibly forgot her promise or even reconsidered. Meeting us here was certainly least expected, but I still firmly believed it was a specter. Addie's reasoning was blinded by a desperate dream of hers, and it didn't help that she was also still mourning the loss of her best friend who was also her only affectionate blood relative. What a cruel thing to take advantage of.

"Meryl, I have the most wonderful news!" Addie broke the embrace and held its hands in hers.

The specter smiled and asked, "What is it?"

"I'm pregnant!" she shouted with jubilation.

The spectral Meryl embraced Addie again. "That's wonderful!" The doppelganger took Addie's hand and pulled her deeper into the forest. "Come, let us find a specter to prophesy for you."

I flew to Addie before she could take a step and grabbed her other wrist. "Addie, you're coming with me," I ordered, pulling her the opposite direction, toward me.

"But I want to share this adventure with you, Addie," the specter lied. "Don't let him take you away from me." Her expression darkened as she pulled.

There I was, playing tug-of-war against a specter, using my wife as a rope. This got out of hand. "That's enough!" I roared. My magic would be useless against a specter. I had no other choice but to use force. "Let her go!" I kicked the specter in the stomach as hard as I could.

Toppling over, it held its stomach and groaned in pain. Good. I wanted it to feel pain so it would think twice before trying to steal my wife.

"Rhys, why did you do that?" Addie cried.

"Addie, that's a specter!" I retorted, gesturing at the writhing creature.

"Rhys, that hurt," the creature whimpered, still holding its stomach. I ignored its comment; I felt no remorse.

"Good," I blurted, angry that it was pulling a cruel prank on my precious wife.

Addie glared at me and hollered, "Rhys!"

"Do the test, Addie" I insisted, pointing at the forest ground.

"Fine," she spat, "I will." Addie knelt down and pushed away dead leaves.

The specter crouched beside Addie and said, "Allow me, there could be spiders."

It revealed itself to us. While on Mount Ziriat, Addie bragged to Meryl about how she no longer feared spiders.

Instantly, Addie's demeanor changed from elated to furious. "You're a specter!" she finally declared, springing up.

As it giggled deviously, the spectral Meryl changed into its true wraith form and then slowly began to vanish.

"No, wait!" cried Addie, reaching out. "Stay, I command you!"

Its face became more opaque as it waited.

Placing her hands on her stomach, Addie asked, "What is the gender of my baby?"

Grinning, the specter hesitated, and then it became translucent until it finally disappeared.

Specters could disobey? I thought they were bound to prophesy if they were commanded by its captor. I wondered if Orne had heard of such a phenomenon... On second thought, maybe the specter didn't know. The baby was conceived not too long ago. Perhaps it didn't have a gender yet. That must have been it, although it could have told Addie it didn't know instead of just disappearing.

Addie stood stupidly for a moment, stunned by the specter's disobedience.

I approached her, arms open to give comfort, but she gently pushed herself away from me.

Tears trickled down her cheeks. She was crying. "It disappeared," she whimpered. Her sobbing intensified. "It's not supposed to leave until it prophesies." Addie threw her head back and cried, "Why do specters hate me so? It's not fair! What did I ever do to them?" She cupped her face in her hands and wept harder.

I wasn't accustomed to this new dramatic Addie. The pregnancy was getting to her. I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to refrain from laughter or else I would feel her wrath. I embraced her from behind and placed my hands over her lower abdomen to indirectly touch my baby. "Let's go home, dearest," I suggested softly.

Addie broke out of my embrace. "No!" she protested like a child, which was ironic, since one was growing inside of her. "We're going to find a nicer specter to prophesy for us! That one was just plain rude and uncouth!" she huffed, shoving her fists on her hips.

Just in case she spun around and caught me grinning, I covered my mouth to pretend I was musing. "I don't think it's a good idea," I said. She was adamant about staying, which I felt was bad for her health at the moment, so I shot forward and made her recline in my arms, and then I rocketed out of the forest canopy.

Addie squirmed in my arms, so I held her tighter. "I hate when you do that!" she snarled. "I want to find another specter!"

"That's not a good idea in the condition you are in," I tried reasoning emphatically.

"What are you trying to say?" she spat venomously. "You're the one who put me in this condition, therefore it's your fault!"

I knew countering anything she said while in an angered state would just make things worse. Despite the long distance, I flew home in silence for the rest of the way.

This was going to be a long pregnancy...

**. . .**

R.J. and Matilda were laughing. My son looked at a laughing Addie and said, "Wow, Mother. You put Father through that?"

Chuckling, she replied, "I sure did." Addie leaned forward so she could see Matilda on the other side of the couch. She waved her finger playfully. "Let this be a lesson to you, Matilda. Don't go to Mulee Forest while pregnant."

Matilda laughed.

I had forgotten how amusing that incident was. Then I turned the page and saw "Rhys Jr.'s Birth." Looking up at Matilda, I said, "Matilda, you'll like this one."

Matilda leaned forward. "Why is that?"

"This one is R.J.'s birth," I replied, readjusting my sitting position.

Matilda sat straight up, eager to listen. "I must hear this one!"

R.J. crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch.

I resumed reading.

**. . .**

Months later, Addie was due any day. For the most part, her pregnancy went smoothly except for her sporadic mood swings. She still remained active and disliked me doing everything for her. I couldn't resist. Who wants to carry an extra weight on their stomach? I know I wouldn't. I tried to be there for her in any way she needed.

During the last days of Addie's pregnancy, I took her swimming at the lake to ease her back pain. We discussed names for the baby. If it was a boy, we would name him Drualt, if it was a girl, she would be named Meryl. While swimming, Addie went into labor. I flew as fast as I could to the castle. Since Addie had been suffering from pre-labor the past few days, Milton sent for elf midwives to tend to her. And since she was due any day, the elves stayed at the castle until the moment they were needed.

According to human and elf tradition, men were excluded from the lying-in chamber. Therefore, I was not allowed inside, but I sat outside the chamber, waiting for my cue to enter. It must have been strange for Addie to not have Milton to assist her with something medicinal. But Milton reassured me that she was in good hands. He summoned the same midwives who delivered Queen Seema's children.

Hearing Addie's groans through the door was torture. I wanted to hold her and whisper words of encouragement in her ear. It took everything in me to not burst through those doors and stand beside my wife. That was probably a terrible idea, and if I carried it out, I would probably be ostracized and malign Addie by flouting tradition. Oh, how much I wanted to be in that chamber...

My mind raced. I was going to be a father. I would be the only sorcerer alive with offspring. At least I had humans to guide me. But even with guidance, would I still be a good father? At least I liked children. Back when I lived in a village, I played with the local children—the ones whose parents allowed me near them.

What was Orne going to say the next time I saw him and told him the news? It frightened me just thinking about it. He'd probably give me a lengthy lecture about how I should stop after the "spare" so that my studies wouldn't suffer more, and he'd probably berate me for my lack of self-control if I have even more children.

Cries. I heard my baby crying! It's here! I thought. My flame danced wildly in my chest. I fidgeted in my seat, waiting for someone to come out. It was as if they heard my thoughts. A midwife emerged from the chamber, smiling broadly at me. "Prince Rhys," she said, "you may go in and meet your son."

A boy! I have a son! I froze from excitement.

The midwife was confused by my stillness. "Your Highness?" she called.

Her words roused me back to reality. I shook my head, and at lightning quickness, I soared as fast as I had ever soared indoors to welcome my son into the world.

An exhausted, perspiring Addie was propped up in bed, receiving our cleaned and swaddled son from another midwife. She looked more worn than when I found her in the Bamarrian Plains after she escaped from Vollys's lair. Only seventeen years old and she'd already been through more pain than I had at age eighty-three. Addie was in labor for hours. I didn't see how she tolerated that agony for that long, after enduring the many discomforts of pregnancy. A woman's pain threshold was incredible. Addie's courage and strength never ceased to amaze me. I was grateful to her for going through such a painful ordeal to bring our child into the world.

I stood at the head of the bed, next to Addie, and looked upon our son for the first time. This was _my_ child. A great wave of jubilation hit me. I had never been so happy in my life. This was even greater than my wedding day. My eyes flooded with tears. Now that I laid eyes on my son, I fell even more in love with him.

Addie looked at our son and whispered, "I'm so happy." Addie managed to smile at me with tears in her own eyes. "You're a father, Rhys. You and I are parents."

My accumulated tears finally fell. I wept tears of joy. This didn't feel real. It was too good to be true. I was sure if I were human, I would have thought it was a dream. I kissed Addie to congratulate her hard work. "Good job, precious." Taking a cloth from the bedside table, I dabbed her moist red face dry.

She didn't say anything; our son mesmerized her. "I want to name him 'Rhys,' after you."

After me? Why? Usually if a Bamarrian was going to name a child after someone it was after a renowned hero or leader. I was neither. "Why? I'm no hero. I was born a commoner," I stated. "Besides, you expressed an interest to name our first boy Drualt."

Addie met my gaze. She looked so serene and certain. Arguing with her decision was pointless. "I would not be the kingdom's new ideal without you. You made that possible," she said emphatically.

I supposed she was right. I did give her the magic cloak, the maps, the tablecloth, and I had fought beside her during the battle at the Aisnan Valley.

She reached up and cupped my chin. "You are my hero and always will be," she murmured sweetly.

I cried harder. I loved my little family so much. "I love you," I said.

"I love you too," she replied, taking her hand away.

I sat down on the bed, arms outstretched. "I want to hold him."

Carefully, Addie passed Rhys to me.

Holding him securely in my arms, I gazed at him, comparing his features to ours. He had my black, wavy hair, Addie's facial structure, and her tan skin. It was hard to believe he was half sorcerer from his lack of white eyelashes. Then I remembered the things Orne told me about half-breeds: They develop in the womb and are born with blood-pumping hearts. Some needed more food and sleep than others, but they all required the two. Some could fly, some couldn't. Some spoke early, some didn't. I looked forward to seeing what he could do, as a child of mixed parentage. My blood ran through this tender being's veins. This new life was a part of me; I finally had a blood relative! A human probably didn't understand the feeling, but for me it was satisfying to finally be connected to someone through blood and to bear a resemblance to someone else. Humans took that gift for granted, since it was a normal occurrence to them.

"Am I next?" asked a familiar female voice.

We looked up and saw Meryl stepping over the threshold.

"Meryl!" cried Addie as she reached out.

"I came as fast as I could," said an ecstatic Meryl. "I don't have much time. Sorry I could not be here during the delivery to ease your pain," she apologized, while hastily making her way to Addie. "Drualt would have come too, but we are on a mission I cannot speak of to humans. I was barely able to leave, but I must return shortly." Meryl took Addie's hand and stroked her cheek, looking upon her with affectionate, sisterly eyes. "Congratulations, Addie," she said warmly. She sat down and turned to me. "Now," she said eagerly, arms outstretched, "let me see my godson. I must hold him."

I passed my son to his fairy godmother.

"He's handsome!" Meryl kissed his forehead and chuckled. "I will bestow a gift on the child, and I will do so to all of your children."

Excited, Addie smiled. "What kind of gift? Are you going to give him the gift of obedience?"

Meryl scrunched her nose in disgust. "No, that's a terrible gift! What kind of a dim-witted fairy would do such a thing?" she asked, appalled. She gazed at my son and said, "Little one, my gift to you is talent. May you excel at any passions you have."

That was a wonderful gift. Much better than obedience. "Thank you," I said softly.

Meryl passed Rhys over to Addie. "I will bestow all your children with the gift of talent. Whatever they enjoy doing, they will excel." Meryl raised a finger. "But only if they practice," she warned, waving her finger.

"Thank you for coming and giving my son your blessing," said Addie.

Meryl nodded. "You're welcome. I would stay longer if I could, but don't worry, I shall return periodically to watch him grow." She stood at the door. "Farewell..." Meryl curtsied and then vanished in a whorl of light.

Moments later, Lionel entered, hands folded behind his back.

The elf midwives curtsied and then left, leaving us alone with the king.

I couldn't believe my eyes. I was shocked that the slothful Lionel came to see his grandson so soon. I expected him to arrive two days later or perhaps at the end of the week. He was the last person I expected to walk through that door. It was so awkward I had no words. But despite the awkwardness, I was glad he came as soon as he did. Addie needed to be with her family on one of the most important days of her life.

"Hello, Father," Addie spoke with uncertainty, holding our son closer.

Lionel strolled to Addie's other side. "Daughter," he said with a nod. He looked down at his grandson, wearing an expression I could not read. Then again, when could I ever read him?

Addie looked up at Lionel, gently rocking our son. "Meet Rhys junior, the future king of Bamarre."

Lionel slowly reached out to my son.

Rhys grabbed Lionel's finger with his tight baby grip.

Flinching, Lionel almost pulled back his finger.

Addie and I laughed at our son's behavior and at Lionel for being jumpy.

My son finally released Lionel's finger.

The king continued to stare at Rhys. He looked at Addie and said, "Congratulations, Daughter. You are now a mother, and I, a grandfather."

Addie smiled. I could tell she appreciated his words. "Thank you."

"I must go now," he said. Lionel looked at Rhys and then back at Addie. The king reached out to touch Addie, but before he had the chance to withdraw, Addie took his hand and held it.

I was surprised Addie grabbed his hand, but I hoped that after what happened to Meryl, the winds of their relationship were slowly shifting. It made sense to me. If I had lost one of two children, I would cling closer to my remaining one. I hoped that would be the case for Lionel and Addie. Perhaps with the new addition to the family, things would change for the better.

"Father, I..." Addie paused.

Frozen in place, Lionel waited for her to finish.

"I..." she began softly, "I'm glad you came to see my son this quickly. It means a lot to me."

Lionel's intent expression softened back to his default serene state. He patted Addie's hand with his free hand. Without saying anything, Lionel pulled away and left.

I wrapped an arm around Addie's shoulder, holding her closer. My tears returned as I gazed at my tranquil, yet curious newborn again. One of my greatest aspirations in life was fulfilled: to be a father. I couldn't be happier.

Addie and I had become the proud parents of a handsome baby boy. I felt like I could conquer anything that came my way. Nothing would stop me from being the best father I could be.

**. . .**

"Awww! That's so sweet!" exclaimed Matilda. She touched her stomach. "I can't wait till I have one..." she murmured. Matilda looked up at me. "Did you two ever grow closer to the late King Lionel?" she asked.

I smirked. I didn't want to tell her at the moment. "That's a story for some other time."

Smiling, Matilda sighed and shook her head, exasperated by my response. She eyed me suspiciously. "I take that as a yes."

I wagged my head. "I never said that," I countered, grinning. "Griselda must be a fine teacher, because I'm decades older than you and I still don't know how to put words in other people's mouths," I teased. I was having a fine time, toying with her.

"Rhys, please tell me. I want to know," Matilda begged.

R.J. laughed at his wife's desperation. He watched without saying anything.

"Come back another night and find out," I said.

"But I want to know now why he was so distant to his daughters," she whined.

Her eagerness and persistence amused me, but I wouldn't relent.

Addie turned to her and said, "It was the same reason why he was cowardly. He was—"

"Don't tell her!" I exclaimed. "There's not enough time to explain all the details."

Matilda sighed and slumped her shoulders. Crossing her arms in her lap, she grumbled, playfully, "You're so mean. You're the stereotypical in-law."

I caught the reference and laughed. "Maybe so, but at least you know that I love you."

It was getting late and I needed to study. I closed the journal and stood. "All right," I said, making a grand gesture at the door with both my arms, "everyone out. I need to study."

Everyone stood, almost in unison.

Addie placed Eliza in the crib then kissed me as she passed by. "Goodnight, dear."

"Goodnight," I said, watching her leave.

Matilda and R.J. held hands, and right as they were leaving, R.J. stopped and asked, "We're still going to spend time with each other tomorrow, right?"

Nodding, I replied, "Yes."

"We'll go after breakfast," he said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Son." I watched them leave.

I looked forward to whatever he had planned for tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6: The First Present

**Chapter 6: The First Present**

R.J. and I went to a fair in Dettford. Luckily for us it was a clear sunny day with occasional winds—perfect weather, in my opinion. It had been over twenty years since I last went to the fair, even though I loved going to fairs to see the Bamarrian merchants and entertainers, and to also admire the exotic wares and performers from foreign kingdoms across the vast ocean. Every year the merchants met in Dettford to exchange their wares, but I was either at the citadel or something in the family schedule wouldn't allow for us to leave. It made me happy that R.J. wanted to have father-son time with me at the fair, and it had been a while since we had spent time together, as he was now married.

The fair had different divisions depending on where the merchants were from. I admired the foreign merchants for their courage to sail across the vast ocean, where many dangerous sea creatures thrived. Since I appreciated foreign cultures, we opted to visit the foreigners' divisions first before exploring the rest of the fair. Not wanting to be recognized as the princes of Bamarre, I wore my drab commoner clothes (which I detested) that I owned before working for Lionel years ago, and R.J. wore a tan doublet under his plainest black cloak, with plain brown boots.

The first division we visited was from an exotic kingdom east of Bamarre. Their red tents were lined up in rows and cords decorated with spherical red paper lanterns hung across the main pathway. Most of their decorations were fiery red and metallic gold. Another fascinating difference between Bamarre and this nation: Their dragons are greatly revered, as one could see by all the dragon streamers. But their dragons looked different than ours: Their dragons were serpentine and had broad snouts and large paws in comparison to their narrow bodies and stubby limbs. Long ago, I had heard their dragons lived alongside the humans, helping in times of need. Why couldn't our dragons be like theirs? But I suppose their dragons were equivalent to our fairies.

The first few tents sold jewelry and clothing, which were different from ours. Their necklaces had lots of jade and silver, and their hair accessories were intricately made of gold and dangling tassels. Their clothing differed from ours as well: Their main fabric of choice was silk. It was said that Bamarre's silk, porcelain, and some flavors of tea came from this kingdom, and in exchange, Bamarre traded its precious metals.

We saw one dark-haired, petite merchant modeling her exotic merchandise. She wore a red silk wide-sleeved robe that was heavily embroidered with gold-threaded cranes and dragons, tied shut with a wide sash. From behind the counter, the merchant studied my eyes and scowled. She barked a command at me in her tonal native language I could not understand, and then waving her hands, she shooed me away.

Not wanting to make a scene and draw attention to myself, R.J. and I left her booth. I was positive there were more stands like hers that we could look at. I was used to being treated as such by humans, so her expected discrimination didn't faze me. It hurt more when my fellow Bamarrian citizens scorned me. It was very possible that her land didn't have sorcerers or she had never seen one, so she might have thought I was a monster, masquerading as a human to bring her bad fortune. I couldn't begrudge her for distrusting me. If I were in her situation, I probably would have done the same.

Next were food booths. Scents like ginger, garlic, and some other exotic aromas wafted through the air as I heard the distinctive crackling, sizzling sound of deep frying food and the scraping of pots. Unfortunately, my weak stomach could not tolerate foreign ingredients, which was a shame considering how much I loved to taste different foods. The last time I had food from their foreign land, I was miserable for hours, trying to rid myself of whatever didn't agree with me. If I ate on a more regular basis, my stomach would become stronger, but when you didn't require nourishment, you simply did not bother eating. It took everything in me not to give in to temptation and eat the colorfully assembled cuisine. I averted my eyes after studying platefuls of rice, vegetables, and meats smothered in a brownish-orange marinade. I may not have felt stomach growls like a human, but I did salivate if I smelled something scrumptious.

Toward the end of the rows of tents, we saw an audience gathering in front of a stage. Wanting to get a better view, my son and I hurried to the stage to see the upcoming performance. We were just in time. The musicians were already seated in the back as the dancers found their places. There were probably twenty female dancers dressed in sky blue silk robes with sleeves that extended two feet past their hands. Their dark hair was styled in loops on top of their heads, adorned with flowers and golden hairpieces, and their lips were painted bright red.

The musicians began playing slowly and expressively. I listened carefully to the different sounds of their foreign instruments and how they were played, though R.J. probably had a better grasp, with his musical ability. The melody was played alternatively by a wooden flute and occasionally a stringed instrument. While singing with their sweet, feminine voices, the dancers twirled and swayed in sync with the soothing melody. It must have taken them hours to coordinate the routine as perfectly as they did. Such discipline was admirable.

At the end of the performance the dancers folded their hands and bowed at the waist with their backs straight. The audience clapped and tossed coins on the stage, including us. They deserved every coin. I was happy to see R.J. tossing a generous amount of coins with me onto the stage. Addie mainly taught him politics and warfare whereas I mainly taught him how to be a humble leader. With his loving, benevolent heart, I was certain he will make a spectacular ruler for the common folk.

We needed a scenery change so we decided to move on to the next division. The next division also hailed from the east, but was clearly not the same culture or kingdom as the one before. Their booths had no semblance of order, as they were scattered all over as opposed to being aligned, and their booths weren't individually covered by tents. Instead, they tied several sheets together and hung them over all the stands. Their wares were displayed in baskets on long rows of tables. The entrance to their division sold basketfuls of exotic fruits, vegetables, and powdered spices I could not name. All I knew is that I loved their cuisine but could not indulge to my flame's content because of their painfully hot spices. Like the nation before, I learned my lesson after spending day and night, expelling the contents from my meal shortly after consumption. That was the closest thing to sickness a sorcerer could be. We were immune to diseases but not negative bodily reactions from something that didn't agree with us.

Next were clothing stands, displaying the many colorful, intricately embroidered hanging fabrics, made of silk and chiffon. It appeared that the merchants wore their merchandise like the first merchants we saw. I noticed the people of this kingdom were dark complexioned—much darker than Addie, who was dark for a Bamarrian. Evidently, they were from a much warmer climate with more sun exposure than Bamarre. The women wore yards of finely woven chiffon drapes with gold trimmings, wrapped around their waists and over one shoulder, covering their skirts and short-sleeved blouses that stopped above the midriff. The women wore their long hair in a low bun that they kept covered by the long, decorative chiffon drape. Another feature that stood out to me: Their foreheads bore a decorative red dot between their eyebrows. While the women dressed in highly festive clothes and jewelry, the men wore plain white garments that looked like long-sleeved tunics that stopped past the knee, and matching pants. The shoes from their land curled at the toes and were embroidered with patterns. These two kingdoms sure did like embroidery. One of these days, Addie needed to come see how other nations embroidered. Perhaps seeing foreign embroidery would give her a fresh perspective.

Like the one before, they had dancers perform on a stage, though we were late for this one; it was probably halfway done, which was a shame because this one was exhilarating. The music emphasized the drums, the vocals, and stringed instruments, playing sustained notes. This dancing troupe was smaller than the last; it comprised of only fifteen dancers: a soloist with the remaining dancers behind her, wearing subdued versions of her costume. The charismatic soloist did not wear the long wrap I saw other women from her land wear. Instead, she just wore the blouse, skirt and a head scarf. She sported many gold bangles and a large necklace that nearly covered her entire neck all the way down to her collarbones, and earrings that nearly touched her shoulders. Her hands had red designs, but were partially hidden behind her gaudy jewelry. I could tell by the way her skirt twirled that it was made of a heavy orange fabric that gleamed in the light. Unlike the previous performance, the dancers lifted and twirled their hips to the exciting music and rotated their hands at the wrist. Their footwork was also interesting; they tapped their bare feet in different places on the stage. And like before, when the performance was over, we threw coins on the stage.

Needing a more masculine surrounding, we moved on to the weapon stands, located at the end of the row. Their weapons were strange but obviously lethal. The shirtless weapon merchants demonstrated how to use their wares in the open area, to avoid unwanted injury to onlookers. One merchant hurled a circular device that impaled its wooden target, and another merchant demonstrated the use of a curved blade by slashing in different directions repetitively. Two swordsmen held small circular shields and what seemed to be steel coils. After clashing shields multiple times at what appeared to be one of their forms of martial arts, the swordsmen uncoiled their weapons and thrashed them in circular motions around each side of their bodies. It appeared their strange weapons were lethal steel whips, traveling at rapid speeds. How could anyone learn to wield such a fierce weapon? I closely watched their demonstration, listening to their blades whistle through the air and clank against their metal shields, making me flinch. At the end of their demonstration, they held their hands together and inclined their heads to each other.

After looking around the fair for two hours, we were growing bored. We needed to _do_ something, so we decided to try our luck at archery in the division we were in. I had heard rumors in the past that this nation emphasized archery, which was good because archery was a part of R.J.'s training, and out of all methods of martial arts he knew, it was his strongest. However, I had not picked up a bow in a few years. I would probably shame myself in front of everyone. At least I'd make my son look good.

R.J. picked up a bow and two quivers, both filled with at least a dozen arrows, before we headed for the target range. Once we found an open target, we strapped on the quivers and began to play. R.J.'s arrow whistled through the air and hit the outer ring of the target. "Blasted!" he exclaimed, stepping away so I could have a turn. I was surprised; usually he was better than that.

I collected the bow from him and readied an arrow from the quiver on my back. I knew it was futile, but I fired anyway... It soared past the target.

R.J. laughed. "Wow, Father, that wasn't even close!"

I laughed too, passing the bow to him.

He fired another arrow and this time it hit the middle ring. He was getting better. Playfully, he taunted, "Look at that, Father. I'm hitting the target." R.J. handed me the bow, smiling at me smugly.

My next arrow was worse than the last. I hoped no one saw until I heard a crowd of children laughing behind me. One Bamarrian boy around eight years old paraded over to me and looked up. "I knew it! You're a sorcerer! Why don't you make your arrows hit the target with your magic?"

I wondered how he knew I was a sorcerer just from looking at my back. Tilting my head, I asked, "How did you know I'm a sorcerer?"

"You're tall," he answered, smiling.

"Humans can be tall too," I countered, bending over to lower myself to his level. "Drualt the laugher was taller." Remembering Drualt's height, I raised my flat palm over my head to show the boy the height difference. "He stood—"

The boy giggled. "How would you know? It's not like you've met him."

Oh, how wrong you are, kid... He's my children's fairy godfather, I thought. But it was best to stop before I said too much to a stranger. He may have been a boy, but he probably had parents and they might not like me talking about Drualt as if I knew him. That might stir more paranoia toward sorcerers.

He stopped giggling and shook his head. "You have dark wavy hair and long fingers. Your neck is long too."

Fair enough, although humans could have the same features, but it wasn't worth an argument with a child. Sorcerers were renowned for their slender frames and long, graceful limbs. Obesity was exceedingly rare for my species, and if one was fat, it was of their own doing. My children were lucky to have slim parents, though, R.J. and Rosie had to be careful because they didn't inherit our slender physiques. Instead, they took after the stoutness seen on Addie's maternal side. "I won't use magic because it's cheating. Cheating is for dishonest people."

The boy groaned. "I want to see your magic."

Setting down the bow, I had an idea. I nodded subtly to R.J. He knew what I meant. We'd been in this situation multiple times when we ventured out in public, pretending to be commoners. When R.J. was younger, I took him to villages so he could see the peasants' living conditions first hand. I did that in hopes that he would think of his people first.

"Kid, have you ever met a sorcerer?" R.J. asked, distracting him while I prepared my "magic."

The boy turned to R.J. and replied, "No."

"Well, you're in for a big surprise," said a smiling R.J.

The "magic" was ready. I frowned at the boy. "I can't do magic yet," I said gloomily.

The boy's expression saddened. "Why?" he whined.

"Because," I said, reaching behind his ear and pulling my hand forward, holding a coin, "you had a coin behind your ear."

The boy crossed his arms and pouted. "That's not magic!" he shouted. "You're a bad sorcerer!" he huffed. The boy stomped off to rejoin his friends.

Facing each other, R.J. and I laughed. I flipped the coin in the air and caught it. I didn't want to draw attention to myself at a public event. You never know who does not wish you well. Orne told me about a sorcerer who was murdered at a public event because he showed off his magic to commoners. Some humans were greatly threatened by our powers, so it's best not to demonstrate our abilities to strangers.

R.J. picked up the bow and shot another arrow. This time it hit the center but not quite a bull's-eye. He sneered at me playfully as he handed me the bow.

"Weren't you taught to respect your elders?" I teased, taking the bow. I grabbed an arrow and fired. The arrow was clearly going to miss the target again until I cheated and used my magic to hit the center. Had I used my baton, it would have been a bull's-eye, but instead it hit the center circle. Apprentice sorcerers used batons to focus our magic. If we never used our batons, terrible things would happen, as our magic would misfire. Sorcerer journeymen sometimes used batons, depending on their skill level, but masters never used them.

R.J. faced me. "What was that about cheating being for dishonest people?" he asked, smiling.

"That only pertains to humans," I quipped, waving my hand dismissively. "Besides, I need a handicap. Just look at me," I said, gesturing at myself, "I'm turning one hundred. I'm practically wasting away," I joked.

Rolling his eyes, R.J. smiled and said, "Whatever you say, Father... always has to be dramatic."

Throwing my head back, I laughed, proving his point. I smirked at him. "It takes one to know one, wiseacre."

R.J. laughed at my comeback.

We played for an hour longer, talking about various things before leaving that part of the fair. He shared with me his aspirations, his fears—anything, really. And I shared stories of my past, decades before I met his mother. I was glad I had an open relationship with my son.

As we walked into the Bamarrian division of the fair, we saw a family, flying kites. I remembered those days... "R.J., do you remember doing that as a kid?" I inquired, pointing at the kites.

He looked at the kites and then at me. "Of course I remember. I loved doing that as a kid," he said.

To get a better view, I shielded my eyes from the sun and stared at the kites, remembering...

**. . .**

It was a beautiful spring day—perfect for flying kites. R.J. was seven, Meryl was six, Rosie was four, and Addie was pregnant with our fourth. After helping the kids make their kites, Addie and I took them to the wheat fields outside the castle. R.J.'s kite resembled a fish, Meryl's resembled a snake, and Rosie's was diamond-shaped. The kids enjoyed running at full speed until their kites were aloft. We had to help Rosie the most because hers kept falling. I was able to help increase the wind temporarily. Wind manipulation was very difficult to maintain for long periods of time, especially for apprentice sorcerers. It took years of practice to master the spell.

While the children were preoccupied with their kites, I wrapped my arm around Addie's shoulder and she responded by doing the same with my waist. I felt proud to be the patriarch of my beautiful family. It was a feeling I couldn't describe but every father knew. I wished other sorcerers knew the feeling so I wouldn't be ostracized as much. I guaranteed if other sorcerers had children, their studies would improve like mine did. Children are a parents' driving force to achieve the impossible. When one only had themselves to think of, that person is limited, but once an individual had a loved one's needs to consider, they are forced to undergo anything and adapt for the sake of the other person. Orne always taught me the opposite, but now that I knew better, I often argued with him about the matter, asking him to give me evidence to explain his theory by using my sudden improvement as an example. He was never able to give an explanation, and even had the audacity to give himself credit. I tried telling him numerous times how having loved ones brings out the best in a person, but he wouldn't listen. He believed having a wife and offspring had skewed my perception of things. Till my dying day, I would disagree.

The kids set down their kites once the wind steadied, presumably tired of flying them. They scurried to us, grinning. "We want to play!" cried Meryl.

I gestured at the field. "Go play," I said.

"No, we want to play with you and Mama," said R.J.

I loved it when they wanted us to play with them, and I'm sure Addie did too. We put our arms down and joined the children.

"Not here," R.J. said, moving away from us, toward a small tree in the distance. "Over there." He pointed.

The family migrated to the tree. I wondered what they wanted to play this time. Often times they acted out Drualt's adventure or Addie's adventure. Rosie sat down at the base of the tree, closely analyzing some kind of yellow flower I presumed was a dandelion that she picked up from the ground. Rosie was an analytical child, meaning she could easily play by herself for a while.

R.J. brandished a stick, pretending it was a sword. He patted his chest and declared, "I'm Drualt the laugher!" He held up the stick. "And this is the legendary stick of awesome."

That made no sense! It was so ridiculous we laughed at our son's unusual description of his pretend weapon. His strange child logic obviously came from his human side, meaning I could truthfully claim innocence and say he got it from his mother.

Meryl found a stick and brandished it too. "And I'm you, Mama. I'm Princess Adelina!" she shouted gleefully.

Addie smiled. It must have been flattering for a child to pretend to be you. Meryl had always admired her mother ever since she was old enough to comprehend the details of Addie's adventure_._ At age four, Merry vowed to become Bamarre's next heroine and to take R.J. with her on her journey. Despite being a boy and the older sibling, R.J. was not as courageous as his younger sister in real life. He wasn't cowardly but at the same time he wasn't daring; he didn't crave adventure outside his imagination. The future king preferred the comforts of his home over exploring uncharted areas, as the unknown would frighten him from time to time, depending on the scenery. He admired his mother and fairy godmother for their deeds, but he had no desire to be just like them, like Merry did. If anything, R.J. wanted to be like me, probably because I was his father and the main male figure in his life.

Placing a hand on my chest, I asked, "Who am I?"

He pointed and replied, "You're an evil sorcerer."

I chuckled. "Do I have a name?"

"You're Orne because he doesn't like children," R.J. explained.

Surprised, Addie and I gasped. Orne was certainly not evil, but I supposed my kids thought so because he was stoic around them. They tried playing with him during his rare visits, but to no avail. Orne took out his disapproval on them.

"What about me?" asked Addie, stroking her prominent stomach.

"You're a dragon because your stomach makes you look like one," Meryl stated bluntly. Child honesty.

My eyes widened as I gasped. I looked at Addie to see how she reacted. She simply laughed. "All right," she affirmed.

Pointing, R.J. added, "And you two are married. That's why Orne is always in a bad mood."

Addie and I guffawed. "So that's why he's against marriage! He was once married to a dragon!" I joked with Addie.

"I would be in a bad mood all the time too if I were married to a dragon," she said, nodding slowly. I could tell she was remembering her time with Vollys.

R.J. waved the stick at me. "Take that, Orne!"

I played along by raising my hands to the sky. "I summon a thunderstorm!" I cried, thrusting my hands toward R.J.

He pretended to dodge lightning. "Missed me!" R.J. maneuvered past my hands and slashed my abdomen. "Got you!" he shouted.

"Oh, no!" I wailed, holding my stomach. "You got me!" I staggered and then dropped to my knees. I fell forward, simulating death.

"The evil sorcerer is dead!" announced R.J. Then I heard him scream. I looked up and saw Addie grabbing him from behind.

"You killed my husband, now I'm going to eat you!" Addie pretended to take bites.

"No! Leave Drualt alone!" screamed Meryl, rushing over to save her brother. She gently stabbed Addie's stomach. "Die, you evil dragon!"

Addie played along by retreating, since getting down on the ground would be difficult for her.

Meryl and R.J. held hands and bounced up and down. "We won!" they cheered in unison.

Meryl rushed over to me and tugged my hand. "Come on, Papa. We saved you!"

"Saved me?" I asked, getting up. "I thought I was Orne?"

"No, you're my papa now. We saved you from the citadel," she said, smiling. "Now you can be with us forever!" Meryl exclaimed, arms spread, twirling around.

"Hooray!" exclaimed R.J, hands raised.

I should probably start telling them what I do at the citadel. Obviously, they thought it was some prison camp that stole their father every once in a while.

"Now dance with me!" Meryl held my hands and stepped side-to-side.

I picked her up and twirled her around and slowly lifted into the air.

Meryl loved it when we danced together. Every time we had a royal ball, she insisted on dancing with me, and I loved it.

Smiling, Addie said, "All right, children, it's time to go back to the castle. Come, Rosie!"

Rosie remained preoccupied with the flower in her hands.

"R.J., will you fetch your sister?" asked Addie.

Excited, R.J. dashed through the field to fetch Rosie. He jumped and flung himself many yards in the air. "Wow!" he shouted, coming down quicker than I'd liked. "Look, I'm flying like Papa!"

That wasn't flying; it was a glorified jump, destined to land. Afraid of him hurting himself, I caught him before he landed. He laughed ecstatically. It must be every human child's dream to fly or jump high. I put him down and together we fetched Rosie.

"I want to do it, too!" exclaimed Meryl. She jumped six feet and kept herself aloft.

Addie jaw dropped. Now two of her kids could either jump really high or fly. I'm sure that was frightening for a human mother. At least she had me to help.

"Look, Papa! I can fly!" Meryl shouted.

Even though it wasn't high, I was still a proud sorcerer father. Wanting to test her potential, I hovered three feet in front of her and held out my hands to receive her. "Can you fly toward me?" I asked.

Meryl tried willing herself forward but nothing happened. With more effort, she tried again, but in doing so, she lost her concentration and began to fall.

I caught her before she could fall far. It was a start, and it made me proud. "Good job, Merry! I'm proud of you!"

She gripped me tightly and buried her face in my chest. Then she smiled up at me and said, "Now we can dance in the air together!"

Her eagerness touched me. I smiled. "Yes, now we can dance in the air," I said, dancing as if there was a dance floor beneath my feet.

**. . .**

"Father?"

Coming back to reality, I shook my head and looked at R.J. "Sorry, I was just remembering the first time Meryl flew and the first time you jumped high. Do you remember?" I asked.

"Sure do," he said. R.J. put his hand on my back and said, "Come on, there's still more to see. We have to see everything before we leave." He walked in the direction of the tents.

I followed. This was a brilliant birthday present so far. I wished we had more days like this one.

The Bamarrian division was the last one. Once we were done looking, we would leave the fair and go home. We saw many rows of booths set up under colorfully decorated tents with wares ranging from fine jewelry to masterfully crafted wooden clocks, to lethal weapons. Scattered throughout the division, there were jugglers, musicians, fire eaters, acrobats, and dancers.

One jewelry booth caught my attention for a reason I couldn't quite explain. Perhaps it was the tent's contrasting vibrant colors or the jewelry's gemstones sparkling in the sunlight. Regardless, I had to see the wares up close. As we examined the jewelry, the male merchant gaped at us, either shocked to see a sorcerer up close or he was trying to figure out why a human looked like he was my brother. I didn't want to explain what he thought was a phenomenon unless he asked.

I found a flat, malleable, metal bracelet that read "Step follows step, hope follows courage" written across its band—Addie's favorite stanza from _Drualt_—the stanza she believed in the most. I had to buy it for her. I pried the bracelet from the display and showed my son.

"She'll probably faint from excitement," R.J. exaggerated playfully, "and then she'll never take it off."

I chuckled. "Probably," I agreed. "I'm going to buy it for her."

R.J. furrowed his brow in confusion. "You're buying Mother a present while we're celebrating your upcoming birthday?" he asked.

I went over to the counter to complete my transaction. Once the transaction was complete, I explained my intentions. "As a husband, it is my duty to make my wife feel pursued. That's one of the ways to keep the romance alive in a marriage... and to have seven kids," I blurted quickly, winking at the end.

R.J. laughed at my joke. "So if I want to have seven kids, I must make Matilda feel pursued," he pretended to muse, his finger fixed to his chin.

"Yes," I affirmed, "at least with human women. I don't know about sorceresses, but I would assume it's the same."

Still staring at us, the merchant's eyes darted back and forth from me to R.J., and then he exclaimed, "You're the princes!" The merchant bowed.

My flame flickered. I needed to remedy the situation before the merchant brought us unwanted attention. "W-what makes you say that?" I asked, acting casual. "That's very flattering that you think we could be princes." I shifted my weight uncomfortably. While at the fair, I thought it best to walk on my weight just in case.

"That's because you are, Your Highness," the merchant replied with certainty. Convincing him otherwise was futile at this point. He must have eavesdropped on our conversation and figured it out. After all, it was common knowledge that Queen Adelina was married to a sorcerer, and that her consort was the only sorcerer alive who had children. R.J. addressed me as "Father" and kept referring to Addie as "Mother," and he stated that my birthday was near. Everyone in the kingdom knew the royal family's birthdays. Before marrying into royalty, I knew Lionel's birthday and his father's, and so forth, as they were kingdom holidays.

Honestly, it was my fault for getting discovered; I should have been more careful in public.

The merchant reached inside his money pouch, where he kept the money from his transactions. "I cannot take money from my prince." He handed me the money I had paid him.

I didn't want him to do that. He earned it. Royalty or not, I was still a customer, buying his merchandise. I held up a hand to stop him. "No, it's yours," I said, pushing the money away. "I bought it from you."

"But everything in the kingdom is rightfully yours," he countered, thrusting the money back at me.

I didn't see it like that. Just because I had the queen's strands of hair in my marriage charm didn't mean I was entitled to take or have whatever I wanted. Other than being a different species, I was no different than anyone else—not better, not worse. He left me with no choice but to do something I absolutely hated doing. "Kind sir, as your prince, I command you to keep the money," I ordered. Giving orders like that felt unnatural to me, as I was once like him eighteen years ago for a short-lived eighty-two years.

The merchant lowered his hand in defeat, and then bowed again. "Thank you, Your Highness," he said softly.

A woman of the same status came into the tent, holding basketfuls of food. Once she saw her partner bowing to a sorcerer, she knew. The woman gasped and curtsied. "Your Highnesses, what a pleasure to see you here!" she cried. "You have a heart of flame."

Why did she say that? Of course I knew I had a heart of flame, so why would she state the obvious? Was she trying to insult me? Surely not. Maybe it was supposed to be a compliment I didn't know about. Nevertheless, I didn't have time to ponder it at the moment.

The bystanders heard the commotion and looked into the tent and gasped before bowing or curtsying.

Oh, no... This was exactly what I didn't want to happen. We needed to leave at once before attracting bad people to our presence. I tapped R.J.'s arm and whispered, "Time to go." We raced out the tent, threading between the citizens. There wasn't enough time to fetch the horses; we needed to escape as soon as possible. Since R.J. weighed more than me, I couldn't carry him while flying, so I flew alongside his jumps all the way to the castle.

I had enjoyed spending the day with my son at the fair, and I anxiously awaited what my other kids had in store for my birthday.


	7. Chapter 7: Trauma

**Chapter 7: Trauma**

Hours later, R.J and I returned to the castle without any trouble, aside from getting discovered at the fair. When the twins' classes were over, we took them out to the courtyard, where the servants' children played, so they could release their abundant energies with other children their age. Apparently, while we were gone, Bella gave the twins a bad report because they wouldn't sit still in class. She said they were so squirrelly she had to get their eldest sister to help control them. My younger sons weren't malicious, they just loved to move. They learned best with their hands, not behind a desk. But it didn't help that they misbehaved in class if they knew I was away from home, as they knew I was the only one who could truly discipline them, with me being their father and being able to fly faster. Bella had to come get me to discipline them for their boisterous behavior almost every month.

My sons, Gavin and Drualt, were wrestling on the grass, wearing their typical contrasting colors, while the servants' children either watched or played their own games. The twins may have done everything together and even finished each other's sentences, but I've noticed they liked opposite colors. For example, when Gavin wore black, Drualt would wear white.

Usually, it didn't take long for them to tire out from doing a grounded physical activity. Then a wonderful idea crossed my mind. I knew just the thing to get them to settle down more quickly. "Boys, come here!" I shouted, waving for them to come closer.

They stopped wrestling and flew to me and R.J. "What is it, Father?" asked Gavin, tilting his head, looking curious and cute at the same time.

I crouched to their level. "Let's play a game," I suggested.

"A game?" Drualt blurted enthusiastically. "What game?"

I grinned. They were going to love it. "Cloud Bunnies," I answered.

They stared at me blankly. "What's that?" they asked in unison.

Reaching into my pouch at my waist, I took out my baton and pointed it at the sky. A small cloud came down, and I split it into several smaller clouds, the size of my hand. With my magic, I set the many smaller clouds down on the ground. Collecting a cloud, I shaped it into a bunny and put it back down. The other clouds changed into bunnies as well.

The twins shrieked, excited to play with the cloud bunnies, and the other children in the courtyard stopped playing to see why my sons shrieked. Once they saw, they shrieked as well.

I made the clouds dart and hop in various directions, just like the real animal. "Go catch the bunnies!" I instructed to my sons and the other children. Aside from each other, the twins' best friends were peasants. I taught them, as I have taught all of my children, that a person's rank did not determine their value. A rich, powerful king was no greater than a poor, homeless commoner. I taught my kids to show the utmost respect to everyone they met, and to look beyond what's on the outside. After all, I knew what it was like to have practically nothing and to barely scrape by. That was the darker side of my earlier years... that I couldn't think about now.

R.J. was the first to chase the clouds to play with his younger brothers and encourage them. I liked when my older children played with the younger ones. It gave me a sense of familial togetherness.

The cloud bunnies were designed to disperse once caught. I hoped they would wear themselves out before all the clouds were gone. Surely they would, since I designed them to run faster than the real animal.

Watching the twins and the other children chase bunnies was amusing, and for the next ten minutes all I heard were shrieks and laughter as they chased after the cloud bunnies. When flying, the twins were more maneuverable, since they were more compact, but I am a faster flyer. With enough velocity, I could travel up to a hundred miles per hour, and when needed, I can reach chilling heights of up to three miles above sea level.

Finally, after all the bunnies had dispersed, my rambunctious sons calmed down. Since they were half human, flying jerkily gradually drained their energies as if they were running (which Addie and I were thankful for). I sensed they were sleepy, but of course I wouldn't say that aloud... I learned that the hard way when they were toddlers.

"Come on, boys," I called. "Let's go inside."

After saying goodbye to their friends, Gavin and Drualt drifted to either side of me and held my hands. With R.J. close by, I led the boys to their chamber. Along the way, Drualt dozed off and fell to the floor like a feather.

The sight of him landing gracefully was adorable. I chuckled and scooped up my heavy sleeper so that he was partially sitting on my arm and leaning against my chest. After all, it was their bedtime.

From behind me, R.J. asked a nearby maid, "Do you know if the queen is home?"

"As a matter of fact, she is," the maid replied. "Shall I fetch her for you?"

"No, that's not necessary. I was just curious," he said.

The maid curtsied and walked away.

After what R.J. told me at the fair, I was surprised he cared enough to ask about his mother. He recently got into an argument with Addie about how uninterested he is in warfare. He claimed she nagged him about how he needed to care more about his position as crown prince. Being another male and married to her, I knew what he meant about the now headstrong Addie, but at the same time, she was my parental partner, and I wanted to support her. At least R.J. and Addie had a much better relationship than I did with Merry.

I tucked Drualt into bed and Gavin fell asleep without complaint. My two bundles of energy were tuckered out for the day. R.J. and I left their bedchamber.

As I floated down the hallway, Daria opened her door and met eyes with me. She then retreated back into her chamber. I followed but R.J. continued onward to his chamber. My daughters communicated indirectly at times, like their mother. I've learned how to read them. "Daria? Did you want me?" I asked, with my head poking into her room.

She waved for me to enter.

I came in and sat at the foot of her bed while she sat in a chair, resuming drawing.

"Father, why is Rosie afraid of flying? I remember Meryl mentioning it at breakfast," she said. "If I could fly, I would do it all the time," she stated, not looking up.

Addie and I didn't tell Daria about it because she was too young to understand all the details at the time it happened. "Well, Rosie had a traumatic experience when she found out she could fly."

"I know," she affirmed. "But what exactly happened? Will you tell me the story?"

I didn't see why not except I was afraid Rosie might overhear. She never told me not to share the story with the other siblings, but I didn't want her to overhear and re-experience the awful memory. I had Daria follow me to the study where I would read from the journal. After all, she loved hearing every single detail of a story.

Daria sat on my couch and I placed the journal in my lap, preparing to read.

**. . .**

It was an unusually cold, snowy winter season for Bamarre the year Addie and I celebrated our fifteenth anniversary. Bamarre bordered a desert, so naturally it had brief, mild winters and long, stifling summers. This amount of snow was very unusual. It had snowed twelve inches that day, which was a lot for the subtropical kingdom.

After it stopped snowing, R.J., Meryl, and Daria begged to play outside for their recess, while Rosie and the twins were napping. My two eldest children were ages thirteen and fourteen and still wanted to play in the snow, which to them was a rare, exciting occasion. Every year they hoped for a cold winter with lots of snow. That year, their wish was granted, and I was glad, because every year they whined, begging me to make it snow, and every year I had to explain that I still didn't know how. Anything at or below freezing point was difficult for sorcerers to conjure and manipulate (including freezing weather), for we were born of fire, so naturally we were more connected to said element. However, that did not make us immune to the negative effects of fire and heat. In order, apprentices learned how to do simple tricks with the weather (since lightning came from the sky), then we learned fire, then earth, then water, and then ice.

My family and I dressed in our warm clothes before leaving the castle. I got cold just like humans did, but at least I retained my body heat longer than they did thanks to my sorcerer's flame. I preferred being out in the cold than in the heat because of my warmer core temperature, however, my magic decreased in power. Whenever I did get too cold, it didn't take long for me to warm up, but becoming too hot was another story.

Addie and I were in the middle while R.J. was on my left and Meryl was on Addie's right, and Daria walked behind Meryl and Addie. The sound of their footsteps (not mine; I was hovering) in the uncharted white sheet of snow reminded me of biting into a crispy apple, and the stillness of the vicinity was soothing. I refused to truly walk on top of the unstable layer. Years ago, I tried and lost my balance and fell flat on my face. I loathed failure so much that I eluded uncomfortable situations by either not doing them again or waiting a long time before making another attempt. It was a weakness of mine that I was fully aware of and knew I needed to change. Unfortunately, Rosie picked up my bad example.

After walking away from the castle for a minute or so, Meryl hurled a snowball at R.J.'s shoulder. Holding his shoulder, R.J. stopped walking and glowered at Meryl. "Ow!" he cried.

"Pansy!" Meryl taunted, gathering up more snow.

R.J. managed to gather his own snowball before Meryl made another, and with his good aim, he hit her right in the face.

Meryl shook her head and wiped her face. "All right, that's it!" She shoved her finger at R.J. and me, declaring in a rush, "Snowball fight! Boys against girls!" Meryl and the rest of the females sped away from the males.

"That's not fair!" shouted R.J. "There are more of you. It's just me and Father against three of you."

Meryl spun around, smiling haughtily. "What's the matter, R.J.? You scared of a bunch of girls?"

"No!" R.J. protested, taking offense to his sister's taunt.

I tapped R.J.'s shoulder to get his attention to follow and continued hurrying away from the opposing team. "Don't worry R.J., we can defeat them," I reassured him with conviction. "Besides, you have me—I can do things they can't."

Addie shouted, "No magic!" She probably heard, with her fine-tuned motherly senses.

Blasted! Oh, well. My magic would be weak, anyway. Still, they took the wind from my sails. Speaking of wind... She never said no flying...

The two teams flung many a snowball across the white battlefield. Some members were better at dodging than others and others were better at aiming. Daria was good at neither. Our seven-year-old girly princess hid behind her brave teammates, squealing in fear every time a snowball came close. So really, the teams were even.

R.J. had the best aim out of all of us, followed by Addie, but my snowballs went the farthest and fastest, as I was the strongest. But that will probably change once my stockier son catches up and surpasses my physical age. I kept hitting Meryl because she wasn't good at evading, and every time I got her, she fussed, and I laughed in response.

Addie's snowballs, on the other hand, kept hitting my face every time I collected more snow. I didn't know if it was intentional or a coincidence but it had to stop. I sprung forward, over the fray, and landed right in front of Addie, making Daria scream. Before Addie could move, I threw my thrashing wife over my shoulder and flew straight up. Even after her adventure, heights still bothered her, and I fully intended on exploiting Addie's weakness in order to win.

"Oh, no you don't!" cried Meryl. She sprung up and held on to one of my legs, slowly pulling me down. I couldn't stay airborne holding both of them and she knew it.

R.J. came to my aid by bounding forward and tackling Meryl to the ground, enabling me to fly higher.

As I made my upward ascent, I noticed R.J. pinned Meryl's wrists above her head and fixed his shin against her chest to ensure she could not escape. Meryl kicked and screamed, trying to wiggle free, but to no avail; her stocky brother was too strong and heavy. Both of them had to learn grappling moves for their training, but R.J. was the better wrestler. Though, it helped that he weighed more than his average-built, physically fit sister.

"What's the matter, Merry? You scared of a boy?" he taunted back.

Meryl roared, struggling her last, and then gave up.

Addie screamed my name multiple times as I jetted higher and higher into the sky at full speed.

Jerking my shoulder to get her attention, I asked, "Do you surrender?"

"Never!" she cried playfully.

"Suit yourself," I warned, not slowing down. Once I was at least a thousand feet up, I tossed Addie behind me. I dove head first (which increases my speed), wrapping my arms around my screaming wife so that I was pressed against her back, and sped to ground level. "Do you surrender now?" I shouted above the wind, hardly able to hear my own voice.

Shaking her head stubbornly, she cried, "Never, you brute!"

All right, I thought. I pulled up out of the dive and Addie skimmed the snow as I pulled up into a loop. Ending the loop, I hovered upright and dangled Addie over a mound of snow. "Do you surrender now?" I asked, expecting her to say yes after giving her a wild aerial ride.

"Never," she refused again, though her voice was hoarse from screaming in the cold. That's my persistent Addie.

I gave up. I used all the tricks (without using magic) that I could think of to get her to surrender. Exasperated, I pushed her into a mound of snow, prompting her to unexpectedly surrender, as she hated being cold and wet at the same time. I should have thought to do that from the beginning. Silly me.

After R.J. and I gloated over our victory against the girls, Addie and I watched as the kids built snowmen and made odd figures in the snow, using their bodies, but eventually R.J., Meryl, and Daria became accustomed to the snowy playground and wanted to go back inside to drink a hot beverage.

As the five of us drank our beverages in an attempt to warm ourselves, the kids fought over who would sit beside me on the loveseat. I hurriedly gulped down my drink and opted to sit on a longer couch so that R.J could sit on my left, Meryl could sit on my right, and Daria could sit in my lap. On cold days my sorcerer's flame made me noticeably hotter, therefore they treated me like a snuggly fireplace. I did not mind them snuggling up to me for warmth; I liked having my children close.

Rosie found us relaxing in the solar. Unsure of herself, my eleven-year-old crept into the room, analyzing why her siblings were huddled against me. She must have realized they had just played in the snow because her confused expression became assured.

"Rosie, come sit here," Addie offered, arm raised, ready to receive her.

Rosie glanced at Meryl and then took a step back. "Actually, may I go to Lake Orrinic?" she inquired politely. "I bet it looks beautiful in the snow."

Lake Orrinic probably did look beautiful, but I didn't want my eleven-year-old exploring in the cold, even if she went there on horseback. The answer was no. "You may not," I replied. "I don't want you outside in this weather by yourself."

Rosie frowned. I must have ruined her plans. "But I won't be gone for long," she countered.

"I don't care." I shook my head. "My answer is still no," I said firmly.

She leaned against the door frame, with a hopeful glitter in her eyes. "Then will you come with me?"

Honestly, I didn't want to go back out in the cold, not after I just warmed back up. Her hopeful glitter didn't work on me that time. "I'm not going back outside, Rosie." I'm sure that was disappointing for her. "Maybe later, but not now."

Frowning, she sighed and then left.

One by one, the children left, probably to go to their chambers once they had warmed up again, leaving me alone with my wife.

"Did you save any warmth for me?" she asked.

"Always." I rolled onto my side, arms open. "Why don't you find out for yourself?" I said, smiling.

She chuckled before getting on the couch and positioning her back against my front, molding perfectly to my body. And as usual, my flame burned hotter because she was close. "Mmmm... I feel your sorcerer's flame," she stated, pressing her back against my chest as close as she could without causing me discomfort.

"It burns only for you, love," I murmured before nipping her ear.

Addie flinched away, chuckling. She collected my hand and placed it over her heart, near the tiny jeweled box that contained our intertwined hairs. "And mine beats only for you," she whispered in response.

I slid my hand from her heart down until I found her waist, where I normally held her close in this position. We stayed like that for a while in silence.

Addie rolled over to face me. Her normal sparkle in her eyes seemed dull. Usually when that happened, she was distressed.

I frowned. "What is it, Addie?"

"Did you see the look on Rosie's face when she saw Meryl?" she asked.

I nodded and replied, "Yes." They weren't exactly friends. "Rosie told me she's afraid of Meryl."

Addie sighed. I could tell it pained her. "But why did she tell you that and not me—her mother?" she whimpered.

"Perhaps it's because you and Meryl are close," I guessed. It was true. Meryl and Addie practiced together in the training grounds daily.

Addie frowned, with good reason. Every loving parent wanted their children to confide in them about their fears. "I don't want that to be the reason for her to be distant toward me. I love her just as much as I love Meryl."

Pulling her into a tighter hold, I affirmed, "I know, and Rosie will discover that too, in time."

Addie turned over again, facing away from me. "But I want her to discover it now..." her voice trailed off. She shook her head and sighed. "I don't understand how two sisters could be enemies..." Then she shook her head more vigorously. "I just don't understand..."

I didn't understand it either, but there was nothing I could do to fix the situation, as it was a conflict between them, not me. Hopefully, with time, they would mature and grow closer. I caressed her arm to her hip for comfort until I heard her breathe steadily. She was asleep.

Great. I was stuck. Not wanting to wake her needed and well-deserved nap, I closed my eyes and relaxed—might as well enjoy the boredom. It's not like I was ever bored anymore between raising six children and studying for my apprenticeship.

I had no idea how much time passed. It wasn't until R.J. barged in when Addie jolted awake. "Mother, Rosie is missing and it's dark outside."

"She is?" she asked frantically. Addie sprung up from the couch and ran into the corridor.

I flew off the couch and followed her into her bedchamber. I knew exactly what she needed. I flew up to the chest she hid on top of her wardrobe. I brought her the spyglass.

She snatched the spyglass and looked in the direction of Lake Orrinic. The darkness obscured her vision. Addie searched and searched until she cried, "There she is!" Lowering the spyglass, she said, "We must go fetch her."

I held up my hand in protest. "No, _I_ will go fetch her. _You_ stay here," I ordered. I did not want to endanger the heir to Bamarre's throne, who was also the beloved mother of my children.

"No, we're going together," she argued. "We'll ride on horseback, since you can't carry two people while flying."

I grabbed Addie's arms firmly and pulled her close. She might've been heir apparent, but I was the leader of our family. I stared her down, and in a voice that brooked no argument, ordered, "No. You will stay here. I am going to rescue our daughter." Her blank expression made me wonder if I had crossed the line with my sternness. I stroked her face lovingly to reassure her. "I don't want you to get hurt," I said in a softer tone. Her safety was my main concern. "Besides, one of us needs to stay here with our other children."

Addie lowered her head in submission. We made the agreement long ago that I would be the leader of our family. In Bamarre and most kingdoms, men led the household. To show me respect as her husband (and someone who is sixty-six years older), Addie wanted to honor the tradition, despite our opposite birth ranks. While my wife gave me respect, I made sure to shower her with affection and listen to whatever she had to say. "All right, I trust your judgment," she murmured. With desperate eyes, she looked at me again. "Please be careful."

Without hesitation, I jetted out the window and into the cold. The frigid, icy wind bit my face like a thousand needles, hindering my breathing and making my nose and eyes water. The insides of my nasal passages were so cold, inhaling stung. I was glad I didn't remove my cloak while in the solar; I wouldn't have had time to don it again.

I arrived at the lake and could barely see anything from all the fog and snow. I tapped my baton with my numb hand, creating a soft glow to light my vicinity. I regretted not donning my warm clothes again before leaving the solar. "Rosie!" I hollered, looking all around. "Roselina! Can you hear me? Where are you?" I called. Eventually I found a shadowy spot in the snow. I sped to it, hoping it was my child. It was! The snow made a crunching noise as I fell to my knees, sinking a few inches into the white layer. While I was indoors, it must have snowed more, which was bad for a parent with a missing child. Turning over my unconscious daughter, I noticed her unusually pale skin was riddled with gashes. Some cuts were minor, some were deep, and her fur mantle was torn in many places. At least being pressed against the snow slowed the bleeding. "Dearheart," I uttered, barely above a whisper. My eyes stung with tears of panic from the horrific sight, and I no longer noticed the aching numbness in my freezing extremities. "My poor baby..." I choked, cradling her cold, limp body into my arms for a moment. I wished she were awake so I could comfort her. There was no time to lose. Since her horse was nowhere to be found, I picked her up and flew back home, wondering how she wound up in that predicament. But I figured I'd find out soon enough.

I entered the castle through the window I exited and shouted, "Milton, where are you?" It seemed like he was never far. "Milton, I need you! Milton!" my deep, resonant voice boomed.

Addie dashed into the solar and gasped once she saw Rosie. She held her hands over her mouth and shook her head. "I didn't realize it was this bad," she murmured, already crying. She followed me as I hovered in the direction of Rosie's bedchamber.

As we maneuvered through the corridors, we intercepted Milton. He gasped. "What happened?" he asked, walking beside me, analyzing her wounds.

"We don't know," I replied, entering Rosie's bedchamber. I eased my daughter onto her bed. I kissed Rosie's hand as Addie stroked her cheek, wailing.

"Come on, baby," she urged. "Wake up."

Milton placed his hand on Rosie's wrist and waited. "She barely has a pulse, but she's alive," he informed us. "We need to get her out of these wet clothes," said Milton, looking at us.

Addie immediately took out a nightdress from Rosie's chest of drawers and ran back over to the bed. "I'll dress her," she volunteered.

Milton and I left the chamber and waited next to the door. I was tense. I couldn't help but to worry, even though worrying did absolutely nothing. I wish I didn't worry as much as I did about things out of my control. For years, Orne has tried getting me to stop worrying about "small things," as he puts it, but being an emotional person, I found it to be a challenge.

Milton touched my arm and said, "I'll do the best I can."

"Thank you," I whispered. I didn't want to talk; my mind was too overwhelmed.

Addie signaled for us to reenter. After treating the gashes, Milton had us help wrap Rosie in a wool blanket. "Prince Rhys, I need you to warm her with your own body heat," he instructed, patting the bed.

"Of course." I climbed on top of the covers and lay on my side, pressing my chest against her arm and partially on her chest. I hoped the heat of my flame would conduct efficiently.

Without being told, Addie joined us on the bed and did the same so that Rosie was sandwiched between us.

Milton walked over to the door and said, "I need to fetch a few supplies. I'll be right back." He closed the door behind him.

What happened? How did Rosie get this badly cut? How did she lose consciousness? I wanted to know _now_. The wait was killing me!

The door opened slowly, revealing our other five children. Merry and R.J. held the twins and Daria held Merry's free hand.

"What happened, Father?" R.J. asked, entering.

With sad eyes, I replied, "We don't know yet." I didn't want the younger children to see their sister in such a state. "Meryl, R.J; please take the others out of here. I don't want them to see Rosie like this."

"Yes, Father," said R.J., leaving with his other siblings.

Addie looked upon our injured child and wept again. She shook her head. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep, Rhys. What was I thinking?"

I reached over and stroked Addie's arm. "It's not your fault. You were tired and needed sleep. You're not the only person who is responsible for Rosie." Speaking of which, how did Rosie escape unnoticed? If anything, it was the guards' fault for not noticing.

"But how did she escape?" she whispered.

"I don't know," I replied. I was just as confused as she was.

Addie had no more words. Within an hour she was struggling to stay awake, as it was past her bedtime and she needed rest.

"Go to sleep, dear. I'll watch her," I said.

Reluctantly, Addie fell asleep.

This wasn't Addie's fault, it was mine. If I hadn't said no to her request, she wouldn't have escaped. Wait—what was I thinking? Of course I had the right to tell her no; I'm her father and she is my daughter, and as such, she needs to obey me. Hopefully, that would teach her a harsh lesson on obedience. Addie and I told our kids no for a reason: to keep them safe. Did she freeze and then pass out? If that were the case, she wouldn't be badly cut. How did she get those cuts? I wanted to know everything.

After some time, Rosie shifted awake and held her left arm, where she received a deep cut. "Ow," she whimpered, "it hurts..." She paused, wincing. "My whole body hurts..."

I propped myself up on my arm to face her. I was excited my baby was finally awake. "Rosie," I whispered.

Rosie turned her head in my direction and gasped, eyes widening. Panting, she pushed herself away from me, but in doing so, she pressed into Addie.

The abrupt movement roused Addie, who was sleeping lightly. "Rosie, you're awake," she stated delightfully. Then she noticed Rosie was trying to get away from me. "Rosie, what's wrong?"

"Go away!" she screamed at me, grasping for Addie.

Addie sat up and held a panicked Rosie. Our daughter was crying and breathing hard. We looked at each other with confused eyes. Addie mouthed inaudibly, "What's going on?"

I shook my head and shrugged. I had no idea why she was telling me to go away.

Milton hurried in and rushed over to the bed. "I heard her from the corridor. What happened?"

"I don't know," I answered shakily.

"What's wrong, Princess Rosie?" asked Milton

Shaking her head, she ignored him as she wept into her mother's shoulder.

"Shhh..." Addie whispered in Rosie's ear. "It's all right, Rosie. You're safe."

Rosie shook her head in disagreement. "No, I'm not," her voice cracked. "He's still near me."

Addie met my confused eyes.

"Prince Rhys," started Milton. I could hear and see his reluctance. "You should probably leave," he suggested awkwardly. It must have been uncomfortable to ask royalty to leave. Though, I still didn't understand why he felt that way, with us being equals when we first met.

Deep down I knew he was right about me leaving. I got off the bed and entered the corridor. Pressing my back against the wall of her bedchamber, I slid down. Milton said leave but didn't specify how far. I stubbornly sat there to overhear any bits of information concerning her new unfounded fear of me. I listened intently. It sounded like Addie kept asking her questions and Rosie refused to answer. That was going to get us nowhere. Then suddenly I heard another female voice. Meryl the fairy! Thank the stars she came. Hopefully, with the help of a fairy, we could get more answers. Rosie's crying stopped, and I saw a flash of light from behind the door. I heard Meryl say, "Send Rhys in." I hurried inside.

Rosie was now asleep in Meryl's arms without the bandages. She laid Rosie down gingerly.

I sat down on the bed, looking at Meryl for answers.

"Let's see what happened," Meryl said, wiping a tear from Rosie's cheek. The tear became a bubble and expanded to the size of a cabbage. In the bubble we saw Rosie retrieve her horse from the stables and then consulting with the guards. They let her go! Before jumping to conclusions, though, I wouldn't reprimand the guards; who knows what she told them. She probably lied to them, saying that we granted her permission to leave, but I needed more evidence to assume that too. The scene jumped to her dismounting and strolling around the lake, admiring the snowy scenery. Then she scanned the area, looking in all directions. She spotted a cat stuck on a tree branch. She ran for the tree and gained altitude. I couldn't believe it. My daughter was flying! And she flew much higher than her sister. Though, her flight lacked control, which was an easy fix. I remember when I was born my flying was sloppy during my first hour of life. I would teach her everything I knew about flying. It was going to be wonderful!

In the scene, Rosie managed to grab the cat, but she kept drifting away in the direction of the cliff. She dropped safely onto the clifftop and was cushioned by the fluffy snow. The cat she had rescued darted out of her arms. Rosie observed her surroundings cautiously, probably to search for a way down, and then she whipped her head over her shoulder. She stood and turned around, facing what appeared to be… me! Not again! Why do those wretched specters like to impersonate me? I guess I'm easy to mimic, which was maddening for someone who has loved ones.

Holding up its cupped hands to its mouth, I could tell the specter said, "It's time to go home, Rosie!"

Smiling, Rosie ran into its arms and was happily carried away. While airborne, Rosie rested her head against its chest, but then her cheerful expression changed. She must have noticed that the creature was not nearly as warm as I am. According to Addie, my bare chest feels as hot as a warm mug, thanks to my life flame. Even behind clothing my chest is still noticeably hotter than a human's chest. Then Rosie looked at it and shouted, "You're a specter!"

The doppelganger's face twisted in devious delight.

She squirmed in its arms, and then I saw something I thought I'd never see: dark clouds billowing above her. Any sorcerer could tell that her power was unfocused and hardly sufficient, but it was a start. "Put me down!" I could tell she shouted. Bad mistake.

The specter thinned into its natural wraith-like form, and then it dropped my daughter over a tree. So that's how she got those cuts!

Addie gasped in the background.

As Rosie plummeted through the branches, she was flipped over so that she landed on her stomach. Her head must have hit something because she was instantly knocked out.

The bubble turned back into a tear and fell.

Addie caressed Rosie's head. "You poor thing..." she whimpered.

I was livid. If I knew of a way, I would completely annihilate those vile creatures. That was the last time they would trick my loved ones. Now my baby was terrified of me because of a despicable specter! I wanted it to take a physical form so I could pummel it and then set the stupid thing on fire. I was angrier at this one than the one that tried to lure Addie into the tunnel beneath Mulee Forest fifteen years ago. At least that one didn't directly try to kill Addie and didn't scar her. I couldn't believe this one was that bold. Perhaps there was more to those phantoms than we knew.

I was too furious to speak.

Addie looked at me and asked, "Rhys, are you all right?"

Unintentionally, I glared at her. I was mad at the situation, not her. "Would you be all right if Rosie were afraid of you?" I snapped harder than I had intended.

Addie frowned and looked away. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that. Of course you're not all right."

Regretfully, I sighed and relaxed my tense muscles. I didn't handle stress well, which was why I was glad I was not destined to have the crown. "No, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that," I admitted. "Please forgive me, my love."

Addie smiled and responded, "Of course I forgive you."

I held my forehead in my hands for a moment, gathering my thoughts. I had an idea. I looked at Meryl. "Meryl, can't you do something for her?"

"I did," she said flatly. "I healed her wounds."

That's not what I meant. Addie joined in the conversation and said, "He means can't you cure this fear of hers?"

"I cannot alter a mortal's thoughts," she explained. "This fear of hers is a personal infliction, not a medicinal ailment. I can cure any ailment, but I cannot vanquish inner turmoil." She looked at Rosie then at Addie. "She has to conquer her fear alone. You of all people should know that."

Addie was silent, possibly remembering conquering her cowardice from years ago. She knew Meryl was right.

"Even if I had the ability to erase her fear, I would not."

Appalled, Addie asked, "Why?"

"Struggles build character. Again, you of all people should know that," said the fairy.

Addie nodded in agreement.

Meryl stood. "I bid you farewell, Addie. I will continue to watch over your family." She cupped Addie's chin. "Be strong, love." The fairy smiled and then embraced Addie for a few seconds. In a whorl of light, Meryl was gone.

What about me? I was the one with the face Rosie feared. I couldn't help but to feel left out. "Well, what are we supposed to do?" I asked Addie.

"I think you should spend the day with her tomorrow," Addie suggested.

How was that supposed to work? She was afraid of me. But I would do as she suggested. It's not like I had any better ideas. "All right, I'll do it," I agreed.

"I'll sleep in her bed tonight just in case she has a nightmare and panics." Addie looked at Milton, who had been knitting in a chair. "You may go for the night, Milton. Thank you for your help."

Milton stood and nodded. "You're welcome, Princess Addie." He left.

I remembered the other children. I wanted to make sure they fared well, and I was certain they had numerous questions concerning their sister. "I'll check on our other children," I volunteered, standing. "Goodnight, Addie." And I was out the door.

**. . .**

Daria jumped up from the couch, interrupting my reading. "Wait, Father! I need to use the lavatory!"

I looked up from the journal and said, "All right, I'll wait." At least she waited until I was at a good stopping point.

"Thank you!" she squeaked, scurrying into the corridor.


	8. Chapter 8: Recovery

**Chapter 8: Recovery**

Daria rushed back into my study and sat on the couch. "All right, I'm ready!" she said, squeezing a pillow.

I looked down at the journal and resumed.

**. . .**

That night I could hardly study. I kept obsessing over the fact that Rosie was afraid of me. How was I going to regain her trust? She wasn't afraid of something I did—she was afraid of my face. There was nothing I could do about that. Magic could not fix this one. Familial issues were the hardest to fix, in my opinion. I'd rather struggle with a spell than figure out the solution to a familial problem. Being a father was much harder than being an apprentice sorcerer, but unlike sorcery, there was no instructional book about the proper way to raise a family. Even though raising children was tougher than any spell I knew, it was also far more rewarding, which was why I would stop at nothing to win her back.

Addie told me to go to the old courtyard the next day in the afternoon. She was planning on exposing Rosie to me gently that way. I didn't like the sound of it, though... I knew my daughter well.

Once it was time, I rounded the corner and entered the old courtyard as instructed. The weather was back to its usual mild winter temperature, and as a result, the snow was melting. The overcast had cleared too; the sun was visible.

Rosie sat beside Addie on the weathered bench, hanging her head while staring at her lap. She looked so crestfallen it made my flame shrink. As I drifted toward her, she looked up and saw me. This time she didn't seem horrified as much as she seemed angry. Rosie flashed Addie a glare and asked, "Why is he here? You said you wanted to spend time with me alone!"

"Because he is your father," Addie answered matter-of-factly, "and he wants to see how you are doing."

Rosie crossed her arms over her chest defiantly and spat, "Well, tell him I'm not all right."

"You can do that yourself," retorted a frustrated Addie. "He's right there." Addie glanced at me and back at Rosie. I was relieved that Addie was on my side.

"Fine!" she snapped. Rosie looked up, but didn't meet eyes with me. "I'm not all right," she said venomously. Rosie slumped and dropped her head. "Leave me alone," she whimpered.

"Rosie, that's no way to speak to your father," Addie chastised, arms on her hips. "He's the one who went out into the cold to save you. If it weren't for him, you'd be—"

Rosie closed her eyes and shook her heard. "I can't help that I'm some freak of nature!"

Her response was puzzling. Rosie must have perceived that incident differently than we did, which was understandable, considering her age.

Addie's scowl softened into confusion. She must have been puzzled by her statement as well. "Rosie, you're not a freak of nature. You're half human and half sorcerer," she explained softly. "You are of mixed heritage."

Somehow I knew this day would come. I had a feeling our children would develop identity issues as they grew older. Being a hybrid must have been confusing. So far, Rosie was the first child to show magical abilities, even though my short-statured daughter looked nothing like a sorcerer.

"No!" cried Rosie. "I'm human!" she proclaimed. "I eat, I sleep, I don't fly, I don't have powers, and I'm not drawn to the citadel…" she listed, using her fingers to count. "See? I'm human."

Denial.

I crossed my arms. I didn't appreciate her lie. This new behavior of hers had to stop. It wasn't normal for her to lie to me so easily, however, she was more prone to lying out of all my children. Her new fiery attitude reminded me of her older sister. It was as if Rosie and Meryl traded places for a day. "Rosie, your fairy godmother showed us what happened," I said calmly to be tactful. "We saw you fly."

Rosie tensed from guilt. "It wasn't me," she said in a rush. "It was a fairy carrying me to the cliff."

I smirked at how she thought I was too stupid to know the truth. I knew flying when I saw it. "No, you were flying on your own. It may have been sloppy, but you were flying nonetheless." I had to keep from smiling or else it would look bad. That was a terrible experience for her, and if I smiled it would probably push her further away.

Rosie frowned. She knew she was beaten.

Addie wagged her head. "I don't understand," she said. "No matter how much you deny it, sorcerer blood runs through your veins. Besides, you're his spitting image. There's no doubt whose child you are." It was true. Except her coloration and body type, Rosie looked like my female human twin.

Frustrated, Rosie held the sides of her face and shook her head subtly. "I don't want to be a sorcerer," she murmured painfully.

"Why?" asked Addie, moving Rosie's hair behind her ear. "Your older siblings would love to be able to do what you—"

"I just don't!" she snarled. Rosie sprinted from the bench and out of the courtyard.

Addie sighed once Rosie was out of sight. She met sad eyes with me. "I'm sorry, Rhys. I tried," she mumbled, looking away from me.

I appreciated her involvement. At least I didn't have to bear the pain alone. "Don't be sorry, my love. You did your best." I sat on the bench and wrapped my arm around her. "I appreciate your effort despite this not being your problem."

She looked at me, our noses almost touching. "If it concerns my husband and daughter, then it's my problem too." Addie wrapped her arm around my waist and said, "We're in this together." She collected the marriage charm that rested on her neck and recited,

"Twist and twine

Your days with mine,

Your years with mine.

Cling close and never part.

Twist and twine

Your hairs with mine."

Her devotion moved me. I was glad she was my soulmate. "Thank you," I whispered then kissed her forehead.

Still holding the charm, she stared at me, waiting for me to do our "charm bump."

I collected my charm I kept over my doublet to show everyone I was married, and clinked boxes with hers. We did that to celebrate small victories, seal bargains, or to encourage each other. It was one of our many secret quirks.

"No matter what, I'm here for you, dear husband," she promised. Addie stood and left the courtyard. After being married to me for fifteen years, she learned that I had to muse through problems alone for a while. I was grateful to have a respectful wife, who was mindful of my needs, and according to Addie, I was the same for her. There was a solution; I longed to find it quickly.

**. . .**

"Father, wait!" Daria cried, springing up from the couch and interrupting my reading yet again.

I sighed in frustration. "What is it now?" I asked annoyed.

"I have to go to the lavatory," she answered, standing in the doorway.

I gestured at her with an open hand. "But you just went a few minutes ago."

"Sorry, I had too much to drink at dinner," she apologized.

"Hurry back," I said patiently.

I waited a few minutes until she returned and then sat down.

"No more interruptions, all right?"

Daria nodded vigorously. She grabbed the pillow she was previously holding.

I cleared my throat and started to read again.

**. . .**

For the next few days Rosie did everything she could to avoid me, and whenever she was forced to be in my presence, she distanced herself and avoided eye contact. It hurt to have my little girl shun me so vehemently. I had never realized much time we spent together until she wasn't there. Normally, Rosie would do her assignments in my study, lying on the floor, while I studied my sorcery. At times it felt like she was my shadow, but not anymore. Things weren't the same without her.

One evening Addie and I went to gather the children for dinner, as we always did instead of getting the servants to do it for us. Usually, when we rallied our kids for dinner, they took a few minutes to stop whatever they were doing before coming to the dining hall.

Addie tapped on Rosie's door and informed her that dinner was ready. Almost immediately, Rosie emerged from her chamber and walked swiftly to the dining hall, not bothering to acknowledge either one of us. Addie started to reprimand Rosie's retreating back, but I stopped Addie by touching her arm and shaking my head. What was the point? It was as if we were chastising a rock.

The family traditionally sat in the same formation, depending on the closeness of the members. To prevent disaster, Addie and I sat with the twins whereas our older children sat across from us. If looking down from the ceiling, the order of my row was: Gavin, me, Drualt, Addie, and then Lionel sat at the end of the table. Meryl sat in front of Addie, Daria sat in front of Drualt, Rosie sat in front of me, and R.J. sat in front of Gavin. But instead of sitting in front of me, Rosie chose to sit in front of Addie, taking Meryl's usual spot. That was hurtful to me and foolish of her to take her volatile sister's place next to their mother.

Meryl rushed into the dining hall and abruptly stopped when she saw Rosie sitting in front of Addie. "What are you doing in my seat?" Meryl snarled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Go sit in front of Father where you normally sit," she barked.

"Meryl, Rosie has every right to sit in front of her mother," Addie said firmly. She gestured at the seat in front of me. "Go sit across from your father."

Meryl thrust her arms down and groaned as she sat in the seat across from me. She looked diagonally at Addie and said, "I don't want to sit in front of Father. It's not fair! Rosie always gets her way."

For about a year Meryl had been ill-mannered toward me for no apparent reason, and it needed to stop. No matter how much I tried being reasonable with her, she didn't listen.

"Merry," Lionel interjected softly yet assertively, "do as your parents say." Occasionally, he would intervene if he witnessed my kids misbehaving, which baffled Addie because he rarely disciplined Addie and her sister while they were children. Perhaps it was easier for him to intervene with his grandchildren because they were indirectly his.

My obstinate daughter glared at Lionel. "This doesn't concern you," she snapped.

Addie's jaw dropped. It was one thing for Meryl to disrespect me, but disrespecting the king was beyond the limit. "You are not going to talk like that to both your father and grandfather!" shouted Addie, pointing at the exit to the dining hall. "Leave this instant!"

Meryl's demeanor became passive. "But I haven't eaten yet," she tried reasoning.

"I don't care," Addie retorted. "You should have thought about that before speaking sharply to the king. Now, go!"

Meryl's face twisted in rage. She threw her fork and napkin on the table, and her chair shot out behind her as she stood abruptly. As Meryl was leaving, she stopped at the halfway point between Rosie and Lionel. "Are you happy you got your way, Papa's little girl?" she sneered. "What's wrong, you can't fight your own battles?"

"Leave me alone," Rosie murmured, closing her eyes.

"Princess Poltroon!" Meryl mocked angrily.

Rosie opened her eyes in a wide-eyed stare. "I said leave me alone!" my soft-spoken child roared. All the candles in the dining hall burned brighter for an instant and then snuffed out.

Everyone grew silent, but before we were in the dark for too long, I ignited the candles with a wave of my baton. I was thrilled that my daughter had the ability to snuff flames, as it was a sweet reminder of how she took after me in more than just her appearance.

To my utter shock, Lionel was standing right next to Meryl, grasping her arm, face mere inches from hers. I had never seen him look that intense before, and I had never seen Meryl respond to him with a fearful silence. If there was one person she despised more than me, it was her cowardly grandfather. Due to the fact that the males in her life weren't fighters or heroic (in her eyes), she had little respect for men unless they were skilled on the battlefield. In her skewed perception, men were, by default, weak cowards. "You are out of line, Granddaughter," he spoke calmly, but everyone listening knew he was serious. "Unlike your parents, I have no qualms against locking you up in a cell if necessary." He paused. "Either you're going to your bedchamber, or you're going to my dungeon."

All Meryl could do was stare and breathe. Lionel's sudden assertiveness stunned her into silence and stillness. She stepped away from him and rushed out the exit.

My wife and I met eyes, mouths agape. Addie looked at the king, jaw still hanging. "Father, I have never seen you be so... so..." her voice trailed off as she tried to find a way to tactfully voice her thoughts.

His assertive energy dissipated back into his usual slothfulness. "You never gave me a reason, as you were an obedient, docile child," he said simply. "I don't tolerate abuse. Your sister occasionally got out of line when she disagreed with my political decisions, but she was never abusive. Had she treated you like that, I would have dealt with her as I just did with Merry."

I had no idea he could be that intimidating without raising the volume of his voice. Such a skill was admirable. If I wanted my kids to know I had enough of their misconducts, I had to raise my voice until I turned red.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Rosie staring in terror at the nearest candle, fighting back tears. For a moment I forgot about her feelings toward me; seeing her panic made me forget our present estrangement. "Dearheart, are you all right?"

Her eyes flooded.

Addie leaned forward. "Baby..."

Rosie squeezed her eyelids shut, releasing the built up tears, and stood up. She hurried away from the table.

"Rosie," I called, standing up.

"Leave me alone," she said miserably, without looking at me. As Rosie was leaving, she accidentally levitated many feet up—almost to the ceiling—and was stuck midair, flailing her arms and legs.

Everyone gasped. If she kept flailing about, she would eventually fall and hurt herself. "Rosie, don't struggle—you'll fall!" I said, flying to get her.

"Rosie, please do as your father says," Addie begged, watching in terror.

Thrusting her arms in front of her, Rosie cried, "No, don't come near me!"

"I'll get you, Rosie," said R.J., readying himself to jump. But as soon as he bent his knees to jump, Rosie fell.

I knew that would happen. Faster than R.J. could jump, I caught her before she could hit the marble floor. My flickering flame burned normally again now that she was safe in my grasp.

Rosie pushed herself out of my arms. "I said don't come near me!" She turned around and took backward steps in the direction of the exit. "Why don't you understand? I don't want anything to do with you!" she exclaimed, sobbing. And then she sped away.

Her words stabbed and disemboweled me. What she said would leave permanent damage until the problem was resolved. Surely she didn't mean it—she couldn't have meant it. Our father-daughter bond was too strong. Still, it smarted

"Rosie," I called, about to chase after her to set things right.

But then Lionel blocked my path. "Leave her be, Rhys. She needs to be alone."

How dare he give me parenting advice? I'm a much better father than he ever was, so how could he have the gall to tell me what to do? He may have had more years of experience being a father, but I was still older than he was... and a better father! At least I didn't _let_ my children die like he did, and at least I didn't neglect my children, either. I rarely ever put myself on a pedestal above others, but this was the one thing where I did feel superior to someone else. I took great pride in my involvement with my children, and to have some good-for-nothing father try to control my parenting style was vexing.

"Please stay after dinner," he told me.

Why? What did he want to tell me? What _could_ he possibly tell me? There was absolutely nothing I could learn from him about parenting. What does he know? He's not even—

Lionel leaned forward, brow raised, waiting for a response. "Son-in-law?"

I had to fight the urge to voice my thoughts, and I had to consciously keep my jaw and fists from clenching. I even had to take discreet deep breaths to hide my anger. I bowed. "Yes, Father-in-law, I will stay after." Not that I wanted to. Still vexed, I drifted back to my seat. There was no need to truly walk on my weight while in front of my father-in-law (or any other castle resident). In fact, the first time I floated instead of walked, he didn't seem surprised. Perhaps Lionel already knew the sorcerers' secret, which would make sense, considering how I was not the first apprentice to work for him.

"I want to fly too!" Drualt kicked off from his chair and floated above the table, looking as gleeful as ever.

Appalled by his bad table manners, Addie stood and grabbed for his ankle, but missed. "Drualt, get down."

And of course when one did something mischievous, the other had to follow. Gavin flung himself into the air to hover next to his brother.

"Both of you, get down," I ordered.

They ignored me and continued laughing and pretending to swim midair. While I admitted they looked adorable, I didn't want them flying near the chandelier; they could burn themselves. I darted to my sons midair, causing them to shriek and retreat into the gaps of the chandelier. "Boys, get out of there!" I commanded, reaching into the chandelier for any part of them I could grab. As soon as I stuck my arm into the chandelier, they scurried to the other side and giggled. Then I had an idea. Quickly, I snuffed all the flames in the dining hall so they couldn't see me or where to fly next. I decided to move under the chandelier (curling up my legs so I wouldn't accidentally kick someone or knock over the food below) to catch them. Success! I managed to grab their little ankles and pull them out of the chandelier.

They shrieked as I brought them down, and I ignited the candles again. I pulled their chairs away from the table and sat them down, holding them in place as I disciplined them. They hated being "grounded" more than any of the other children, for it made the toddlers unwillingly sit still for a long period of time. Drualt and Gavin wailed but remained seated until their punishment ended.

I was finally able to bring their chairs forward and sit down. But as I let out a sigh of relief, Drualt started banging his small wooden spoon on the table.

"Drualt, don't do that," Addie said calmly, holding his hand down to stop the repetitive motion. "It's not good for the table, and it bothers others around you."

Drualt stopped and pouted.

And of course since Drualt did something, Gavin had to do it too. He was very predictable, which was beneficial for Addie and me. But before he had the chance to do it repetitively, I held his hand down. I looked at him sternly. "What did your mother just tell Drualt? No banging on the table."

"Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa..." Drualt said.

Masking my annoyance, I looked at him. "What?" I asked.

"Why did you let Rosie fly but not us?" he asked with sadness in his eyes.

"That was an accident," I replied. "Rosie didn't mean to fly, but if she did, I would have told her not to."

"Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa..." said Gavin, exactly the same way Drualt had.

I looked at him and asked irritably, "What?"

He stared at me blankly and shrugged. "I don't know."

R.J. and Daria chuckled at my exasperation. "Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa..." Daria joined to annoy me further.

I glared at her. "Stop it, you're not triplets."

The twins giggled at how their older sister was mimicking them, so they decided to do it again. "Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa..." they said in unison.

I couldn't take any more of their antics. "All of you, finish your dinner!" I ordered, voice raised. I sighed audibly and held my shaking head. Being a father of six made me understand why sorcerers' hair never grayed: they didn't have children! But at the rate I was going, I'd be the first to have gray hair. Head still in my hand, I said, "Honestly, you kids are going to make me die before I'm two hundred!"

R.J. laughed at my exaggeration.

The family settled back down and ate in silence. Once the children were finished eating, they asked permission to be excused before leaving. Addie sent for a nursemaid to take the twins and remained seated. Remembering Lionel's request, I moved to the seat across from Addie to be closer to my father-in-law.

The king looked at Addie. "I would like to have a word with my son-in-law in private."

Addie stared at him for a moment. I could tell she was offended. She stood and curtsied before leaving.

We sat in silence for a moment until Lionel spoke. "Why is Rosie afraid of you?"

I told him what happened.

Lionel leaned back in his seat. "I see..." He stroked his chin. "That's a difficult situation," he said.

"Yes," I agreed, upset with my predicament. "I want to solve this as soon as possible." I shook my head. "I can't live without my little girl." Especially the one who idolized me the most. I met eyes with Lionel.

He pulled out _Homely Truths_ from the pocket in his mantle. "Distance mends a broken heart and makes it grow fonder," he read. Lionel stuffed the worn book back into his mantle. "That's what you should do, Son-in-law: Give Rosie space to sort out her thoughts and heal."

I did not appreciate his unsolicited advice. He needed to stay out of my familial affairs and let me handle my own problems. Did it mean nothing to him that I was old enough to be _his_ father? Actually, if his father were still alive, I'd be older than him too. "How am I supposed to do that?" I asked rhetorically. "What if it takes months?" The thought made my stomach churn.

"Then it will take months," he replied. "Think," he said, "is your approach working?"

No. Ashamed, I shook my head in response, but I refused to accept his words of advice. How could he possibly know the solution? What does he know about raising daughters? He merely sired two heirs to fulfill his kingly duty. Yes, it was also my duty to sire the next heir to the throne, but at least I was more than my children's sire. I was their _father_ in every sense.

"Haven't you noticed the harder you pursue, the harder she pushes away?" he asked.

I nodded subtly, trying not to remember all the times she avoided me.

"Then leave her be until she's ready to come back to you," he said, "otherwise, she'll resent you for not respecting her boundaries."

I never thought of that. I didn't consider her boundaries because, as a parent, I saw her as a little girl, and she spent most of her time with me anyway. I was the one who had to shoo her away at night for her bedtime. Sometimes she would even insist on sleeping on my couch because she didn't want to leave. I hated to admit it, but he had a point. Reluctantly, I said with a nod, "I will do as you suggest, Father-in-law." Not that I wanted to.

He nodded back at me in response. Lionel stood. "I must go," he said. "I hope things improve between you and Rosie."

"Um... Thank you..." I said uneasily. Hearing that from him felt awkward, even if he meant well. Before Lionel left, I bowed and then followed him out to retire to my study, where I'd prepare to leave for the citadel. The summons would start at ten o' clock, and I dreaded going because I knew I'd be too distracted to concentrate. What would Orne say?

**. . .**

I glanced up at Daria and caught her sleeping on her side, still hugging the pillow. I frowned. How rude! "Daria!"

My sleeping daughter jolted awake and sat up. "I'm awake," she peeped.

The family's early riser obviously needed to sleep. I began to close the journal.

Her eyes widened. "What are you doing? Don't stop."

"What's the point? You're just going to fall asleep," I reasoned. "You probably don't even know where I last left off."

"Yes, I do," she protested, offended by my presumption. "You were about to go to the citadel," she answered.

Good. I wouldn't have to reread anything. I opened my journal and flipped through the pages until I found where I had left off. "If you fall asleep again, you're going to bed. All right?"

Daria nodded.

I resumed reading.

**. . .**

Every time I left for the citadel my family would give me warm farewells, consisting of hugs and kisses right before the summons. Rosie was always the last child to hug and kiss me so she could take her time, and then Addie would be the last to say her goodbyes (of course after giving me a kiss). But that time Rosie did not see me off. I felt crushed that my closest child refused to see me leave. Even Meryl was there! That visit to the citadel would be horrible. I braced myself for Orne's lectures, as he would undoubtedly sense my distraction. He did. The lectures came at me like a waterfall, and of course he did not understand my pain. He simply told me that I shouldn't have had a third.

Everything I did at the citadel suffered, from my concentration to my eagerness to learn a new spell, which wasn't normal for me. I loved to learn and to expand my magical repertoire, and Orne knew it. He granted me an early dismissal after five days instead of eight, which I didn't mind; it would give me a chance to fix my familial problems. I wanted to be home the moment Rosie healed.

The night I returned, it rained—hard. My Rosie was afraid of thunder and had been since she was a toddler. Unlike R.J., Rosie hated the musical clouds I could conjure. Admittedly, it was my fault. When she was a toddler, I summoned the musical clouds so that Rosie and her siblings could dance off their energies before going back inside. Lightning almost struck her feet and the cloud clapped too loudly. No wonder she was my most skittish child; she's experienced the most shock.

During loud storms I stayed with Rosie until the thunder stopped. Knowing how she felt about me at the moment, I retired to my study. What was the point of going to her when she would just tell me to go away? Plus, I told Lionel I would do as he suggested. At least that way she couldn't shun me and snuff my flame.

No. I couldn't do that, not to my precious daughter. Guilt gnawed at me until I slammed the spell book shut and sped through the corridors to be with Rosie. I would most likely regret what I was about to do.

Lighting my baton, I entered her chamber, knowing she would be petrified under the covers. She was. I saw a lump under the comforter. "Rosie?" I called gently, approaching her bed. I saw the lump trembling. The situation was not funny, but the sight was. I tried not to smirk.

Then another thunderclap filled the chamber.

Rosie flinched and squealed.

I sat on her bed, trying to decide the best way to comfort her during the awkward strained phase we were going through. I reached out and caressed the lump that was her back. "Shhh... I'm here."

Rosie must have weighed her fears and chose me as the lesser threat because she scurried into my arms, much to my delighted surprise.

I held her close and she held me tightly, her face pressed against my stomach. I relished the feeling of having her in my arms again, but I didn't want to get ahead of myself in case she still had doubts.

More thunder.

Rosie flinched again.

The thunder gave me an idea. "Rosie, have you ever used the thunder to think of a creative story?"

"No, I just want it to go away," she whined into my stomach, voice muffled. Rosie knew better than to ask me to make the rain stop, even though I was capable. For one, rain in Bamarre was precious, and two, if I stopped all storms, it would teach her that I would always be there to solve her problems, which, as a parent, was not good. When Addie was twelve I rid the castle of spiders, but in doing so, I encouraged her fear. I wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Imagine that the sorcerer elders are fighting alongside your fairy godparents, and every time you hear thunder, they're striking down a gryphon."

Rosie pulled her head away from my stomach. "Can the sorcerers really do that?" she asked timidly.

"Control lightning?" I asked. "Sorcerers who are at least two hundred can," I replied, nodding. "I don't know how yet, but I can't wait." I smiled at her. "Manipulating clouds is fun as it is. Just imagine how amazing it would be to control something so powerful." Wanting to distract her even more, I had another idea. Patting her back, I said, "Come on, let's make a fort." I suggested making a fort because she loved camping. In the summertime, I took the kids camping at the lake. I would camp with all of them at once and then individually. It was something the kids and I cherished doing every year.

I pulled up her two sitting chairs and placed them a few feet away from the foot of the bed. I grabbed the pillows and tossed them between the bed and chairs, for coziness. Then I threw back the comforter that was still on the bed and yanked the sheet out from under it. I took the sheet and draped it over the foot of the bed and the chairs, giving the fort a roof. For the final touch, I draped the comforter over the sheet. I chose the spot with the widest opening to be the "door" to the fort, and crawled inside, being careful not to push the chairs, and chose one side to be my resting spot. I noticed the center of the fort was sagging, so I poked it with my baton, willing it to magically stay up as if a pole were underneath.

Without being told, Rosie wiggled inside the fort and sprawled out on the opposite side.

I rested supine instead of on my side so she wasn't forced to look at me. I would wait for her to initiate eye contact when she was ready.

Another thunderclap sounded.

Rosie panted softly.

I placed my hand over hers and said, "Another point for the sorcerers and your fairy godparents. Let's see how many points they get."

Her panting stopped. I knew it was working. The next thunderclap didn't faze her.

After a few minutes of waiting and counting, Rosie giggled for what seemed to be no reason.

Her giggling made me chuckle. "What's so funny?" I asked.

"I'm just remembering the last time we went camping. You were trying to convince me how nice it was to fly. You sailed off—backward, and bumped your head on a tree branch," she laughed halfway through.

I laughed with her. Even if it hurt at the time, it was funny. There I was trying to convince my daughter how great it was to fly, and then while showing off how skilled I was aloft, I bumped my head on a tree. Not one of my greatest moments. I guess that's what I got for showing off. "Yes, I remember that," I affirmed, rubbing the part of my head that hit the branch. Then to get even, I sneered, "Remember when you had the brilliant idea to leave your normal dry clothes near the lakeshore while you swam?"

She giggled. "Yes, and you had to make me cloud clothes until mine were dry."

In mock frustration, I added, "Yes, and I had to dry them with a warming spell. It took ages to get them dry!"

Still focused on the cloud clothes, Rosie said, "Those clouds were comfy! It felt like I was wearing nothing!"

I did _not_ need to know that. I blinked rapidly, shocked that she blurted such a thing. "That's too much information, Rosie," I informed awkwardly.

She giggled some more. "I want cloud clothes for my next birthday. Can you do that?"

"I can, but I won't," I replied.

"Awwww..." she whined.

Then we were silent.

I hoped she wasn't getting scared of me or anything else. "Rosie?"

"I remember when I went swimming one time and I got stuck in a rip current," she said solemnly. "I was so scared..." Rosie paused. "But then you saved me by flying me out…"

Without shifting my head, I looked at her through the corner of my eye. Was she... recovering?

"...just like you did the... other day," she finished.

I could see her crawling closer until her face loomed over mine.

I probably shouldn't have, but I met her eyes. I couldn't see fear. All I saw was sadness and slight longing. Before I went to the citadel, it was as if the past few days she had been missing from the castle. It felt like I only had five kids instead of six, and I hated it. "I've missed you, dearheart," I stated softly, being careful not to scare her.

Rosie said nothing in response. Staring into my eyes, she grazed her fingertips down my face, and then rested her hand over my breastbone to feel my flame's heat.

"It's me," I whispered, covering Rosie's hand with mine. "Do you feel my sorcerer's flame?" A specter could not ape the heat of a sorcerer's flame, as she discovered first-hand.

"Yes," she murmured. "I feel it."

I was profoundly glad a specter could not duplicate a sorcerer's flame.

Then her eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry," she breathed before breaking down into sobs. Rosie sat on her feet and cried into her hands.

I balanced my weight on my side, still facing her. I caressed her back.

"I-it looked and sounded just like you. I should have known..." her voice trailed off.

I shook my head. She was being too hard on herself. "There's no way you could have known until it was too late. Remember how your mother was fooled three times? I thought for sure your mother would have learned after being tricked twice," I said. "Besides, I'm easy to impersonate." Though, I had to know why she was so determined to see the lake that she would deliberately disobey me. "Rosie, why did you disobey me? I said no because I didn't want you to get hurt."

Rosie wiped her tears and replied, "I love Lake Orrinic, and I love snow. I wanted to see what it would look like before it melted."

It made sense why my nature-loving eleven-year-old disobeyed. "Now do you see why your mother and I tell you no? Most of the time it's to protect you and your siblings."

She wouldn't look at me, but nodded.

Instead of focusing on consequences and life lessons (that were already suffered and learned), I decided to change my approach. I felt that she needed to hear what I had to say next. "Rosie," I said, hoping she would look at me.

She did with glassy eyes.

"No matter what you do or where you are, always know that I love you."

"Even after how I treated you, you still love me?" she asked miserably.

"Of course I do," I replied, surprised she thought otherwise. "There is absolutely nothing a child can do that could make a parent love them less."

Rosie studied me for a moment. "Promise?"

I smiled and made an "x" gesture over my chest. "Cross my flame and hope to die."

It brought my daughter relief, knowing that she was loved unconditionally. Her tears returned, but they were tears of joy. Rosie embraced me, and I sat up to hold her. "I love you too." She broke the embrace and faced me. "I hope when I'm older, I'll marry someone like you."

Her comment warmed my flame. I was flattered to hear my daughter imply that I'm an ideal. I touched my forehead to hers and said, "You will. And he'll be even better than me."

She smiled.

I moved toward the fort's exit until I felt Rosie pulling my arm.

"Stay with me," she pleaded. "At least until the rain is gone."

I saw a hopeful gleam in her eyes. There's my girl. I was overjoyed she came back to me. I smiled, positioning myself where I was originally laying. I didn't have much longer to wait because the rain was dying down. "I'll stay, but you must promise to go to sleep. As much as I would love to, we can't talk all night." I tapped my baton to douse the light. Then an idea struck me.

"All right," she muttered, falling back onto the pillows.

"Give me just a minute; I'll be right back." I left the fort and opened the window. I summoned a cloud into the chamber and shaped it into a pillow. I came back into the fort and passed the cloud to her. "Use this so your dreams will be lovely."

She may have hated the musical clouds, but she loved the comfy pillow versions. Rosie snatched the cloud from my hand and flopped onto it, knowing it was much more malleable than it looked. My kids loved the cloud pillows. If any of them (or even Addie) had a nightmare, I would give them a cloud pillow to prevent them from having a reoccurring nightmare in the same night and to give them lovely dreams.

I remembered the new magic trick I learned (despite my distraction) at the citadel that I knew she'd love. I smiled broadly and said, "At the citadel yesterday I worked on something for you, something to impress and astonish you." I flicked my glowing baton, and then several glowing specks hovered like stars inside the tent.

Rosie smiled, surveying the specks. "Wow," she blurted in amazement, "they're beautiful." She stared at one that hovered right in front of her face. She looked at me and asked, "Could I... Might I touch it?"

Her tone and the way she asked sounded just like her mother before we married. Rosie was very much like Addie's old self. "Go ahead," I said, delighted by her astonishment. I loved to entertain others with my magic. It gave me the chance to show off my capabilities to those who were not magically inclined, but in Rosie's case, she might have been an exception.

After she was done touching the speck of light, I guided the specks into constellations.

Rosie's face lit up with excitement. "You're making the constellations in the sky."

She was correct. I wanted to teach her something about her sorcerer heritage, pertaining to the stars. "The constellations mean more to sorcerers than humans," I told her. "Humans don't know this yet, but stars and lightning are made of the same thing." I paused. "When lightning strikes marble, a sorcerer is born," I stated, fully aware she knew how sorcerers were born. "But when a sorcerer dies, with his dying breath, his power leaves his body and travels to the black abyss, to become one with the stars," I explained. "Their powers are then recycled by the apprentices during ceremonies. As we chant or sing, the stars show uncommonly bright, so we can absorb their powers.

"Only the greatest sorcerers are made into constellations," I said, wide-eyed, filled with the drama of the great event. "Sometimes if a living sorcerer was greatly revered as a hero, the fairies would move the stars to make a constellation that would best represent the sorcerer."

Rosie looked at me and then searched the constellations. "Where's yours?" she asked.

"My what?" I asked, confused by what she meant.

"Your constellation," she replied simply.

"I'm not a hero," I laughed.

"Yes, you are," she countered innocently but with conviction.

I was flattered and confused. I wondered what I did to make her believe I was a hero. "What makes you say that?"

She stared at me with certain eyes, and said, "Because you're _my_ hero."

My eyes instantly watered. "And you will always be my daughter—my little girl—my princess." I pressed my forehead to hers and held the back of her head, savoring the closeness.

Rosie kissed my cheek. Rolling over onto her side, she yawned before whispering, "Thank you for showing me the stars and for making the cloud pillow. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, dearheart."

**. . .**

"So that's what happened," Daria realized. She slid off the couch, looking invigorated. "Thank you for telling me the story," she thanked graciously.

I nodded, impressed with her manners. I've taught her well. "You're welcome, sweetie."

Daria tilted her head. I knew that look; she had something to tell me. "I agree with Rosie," she said.

"About what?"

"About marrying someone like you," she replied, smiling. "They have to be a hero if they want to marry me. I won't settle for anything less than what you are, Father."

I smiled. Her expectations were flattering. "You girls are sweet," I said.

Hands behind her back, she twisted side-to-side. "Well, I'm off to finish your birthday present." Daria curtsied and then left.

Now I could resume studying.


	9. Chapter 9: Discord

**Chapter 9: ****Discord**

Reminiscing with Daria about Rosie made me long for my distant Meryl. Winning Rosie back was easy in comparison. I had no idea how things between Meryl and me spiraled downward. I thought after The Great Monster War we would reconcile, but we didn't. During the war, she got herself in a nasty predicament, and I put in the most effort into saving her, yet she acted as if nothing happened. It really irked me! I wished she understood how much I loved her—my firstborn princess.

In my opinion, girls were harder to raise once they reached adolescence. My relationship with my daughters was different than my relationship with my sons. While I was a friend and mentor to my sons, my relationship with my daughters was tender and less playfully abrasive. Very seldom did I have problems with R.J. now that he was a teenager. He was my easiest in terms of discipline and coping with raging hormones. I was thankful I didn't go through adolescence from start to finish within ten or so years. At least my adolescence was stretched out over the course of a century. And even still, my kind was already born halfway done with adolescence. Sorcerers were born with the physical appearance of a fourteen or fifteen-year-old human. At age five-hundred, we looked like a human centenarian, sans the gray hair.

As I drifted down the corridor, coming from the nursery, I heard Eliza squeal, mixed with Addie's motherly laughter. They must have been playing. I stood in the nursery's doorway and saw Addie on the floor, coaxing Eliza to crawl to her over a soft mat. "Come on, sweet girl. Come to Mama," she said in a high tone of voice.

I couldn't help but to chuckle. Our daughter was so adorable.

My chuckling alerted Eliza to my presence. Our infant looked at me and squealed with delight. That was what I loved about babies: they're always happy to see and play with their parents... and they never talked back, unlike teenagers.

"Look, Eliza. Papa is here," Addie said, pointing at me.

I pretended to walk to her like a human by hovering a hair's width above the carpet. "Hi, baby girl," I cooed, crouching.

Eliza surprised both of us by springing toward me.

Picking her up, I smiled broadly and placed her on my thigh. "Good job!" I congratulated. I kissed her cheek and laid her back down on the mat.

She rolled over onto her stomach and tried pushing herself forward with her legs. Almost!

The sudden lurch must have been a fluke. Nonetheless, I was a proud father. I missed that stage with all my children.

Matilda appeared in the doorway and curtsied. She leaned against the doorframe, smiling at Eliza. "I can't wait..." she murmured.

Addie looked at Matilda. "Hello, Matilda. Did you manage to make it rain over the farmer's crop?" she asked.

Matilda's eyes looked everywhere but at Addie. "Yes, but it took far too long. My rain was uneven."

Uneven rain. I remembered those days. Some clouds dispensed more droplets than others. It took years of practice to get it right. In all honesty, Matilda was not ready to be in the service of a sovereign. At the young age of fifty-seven, she was too inexperienced. Usually the apprentices were at least seventy before they worked for a sovereign. Matilda's service to the sovereign started prematurely, thanks to the Great Monster War.

Matilda and the other apprentices we have had and will have were lucky to work for Addie because, being married to one, she knew apprentices frequently made mistakes or something would take longer to conjure. Addie was the most understanding sovereign a sorcerer could have.

"Well, as long as you made it rain, I'm happy," said Addie. She looked at me and frowned, and then she looked at Matilda again. "Matilda, will you take Eliza into the next room until I send for you? I need to have a private word with my husband."

Now I was curious and afraid. Why would she send our daughter-in-law away? It must have been serious.

After Matilda left, Addie sighed and looked upon me with woebegone eyes. "I won't be able to celebrate your birthday on Friday—or any day on the weekend."

My flame felt like it sank to my stomach. There had better been a valid explanation.

"The councilors denied my request," she added solemnly, avoiding eye contact.

That was the stupidest thing I had ever heard! She was the queen! Why did the _queen_ need permission to have a day off? "Why?" I asked, appalled. "Do they not realize it's a milestone birthday for your husband? I'm not going to have another milestone birthday for another century."

"It doesn't matter whose birthday it is in relation to me. My queenly duties come before anything else—even before my wifely and motherly duties," she explained. "The life of a sovereign is not the life of a vassal. We are servants to our kingdom at all costs." Addie looked at me. "I didn't comprehend that when I was sixteen, but now that I'm queen, I understand how difficult it is to rule a kingdom. I made some harsh judgements about Father never having time for his daughters as a teenager, not realizing how much of a burden he carried. Though, admittedly, he could have tried a little harder," she said. "However, now that I'm in his position, I have gained more understanding."

I stepped closer to her, holding my palms up. "But you promised," I countered, feeling betrayed. I had had enough of her broken promises.

"I promised to request a day off, but that did not mean it would be granted," Addie explained calmly.

"Can't you do something? You're the queen of Bamarre _and_ the kingdom's new ideal." Surely there was _something_ she could do.

"Oh, Rhys."

"Isn't there some command you could issue that could override anything the councilors say?"

She kept shaking her head. She looked like a fool, wagging her head. What was the title good for if she couldn't do as she pleased?

"I don't have enough power as queen," she said. "The sovereign does not have absolute power anymore to prevent tyranny."

"I know," I murmured. But I still thought she could try harder. I didn't appreciate her constant last minute cancellations. We hadn't had a date night in months, thanks to her queenly duties. We would plan a date in advance, only to have it cancelled the day before. Even the rescheduled dates would be cancelled by last minute meetings, rendering Addie too exhausted to stay awake late at night when she was off-duty. It was a good thing we started our family while she was a princess; Addie wouldn't have had the time or energy to keep up with having multiple little ones as queen.

I crossed my arms over my chest. Voicing my thoughts felt like the right thing to do. "Addie, you do this all the time," I said, now irritated. "What's the point of us scheduling plans anymore if you're just going to cancel?" What was the point? I'd rather us not plan anything than have my hopes crushed every single time. Yes, I did enjoy being our children's main caretaker and spending my time with them, but spending time with them was completely different than spending time with my wife.

She glared at me with a face that would concern me in our earlier years of marriage. Not anymore. "That's not true," she huffed.

Rubbish. Yes, it was. I knew because I kept track of all the cancellations. I lowered my head and looked at her skeptically.

"It's not," Addie protested.

"Oh, really? Name the last time we went on a real date," I challenged.

She stared at the ceiling in thought. "Let's see..."

I smirked, knowing I was right.

Addie finally responded with, "We had that picnic in the garden."

"And how long ago was that?" I asked, fully aware of how long ago we had that picnic.

"I was still pregnant with Eliza," she admitted sheepishly.

I proved my point. And she wanted us to have another child? How? Addie hardly had time for the ones we already had. How were we supposed to conceive another if we never saw each other? What did she want to do? Adopt? At the rate we were going, that would be our only option. "That was over four months ago, and even still, it lasted thirty minutes before you had to leave to handle a military issue," I said. Then I remembered our best getaway and smiled. It was greater than our honeymoon, for we embarked on a quest in the kingdom of Pevir as husband and wife, leaving our kids and duties behind. Unlike the honeymoon, we were very much familiar with each other, and it proved to us how much we had grown together as a married couple outside of parenthood. "Why can't we run away to another kingdom like what we did a year ago?" I asked.

Addie was not impressed with my suggestion, as she made clear by her scowl. "That was very foolish and irresponsible of me, and you know it. I shouldn't have left Bamarre without telling anyone, and I have vowed to my councilors to never do that again."

I leaned forward and turned my head slightly to look at her with one eye. "But you have to admit it was glorious to explore the desert kingdom of Pevir and to battle its lethal monsters as a wed couple."

She smiled slightly, not wanting to admit how we had a glorious adventure, thanks to her irresponsible behavior. "Indeed," she agreed. "But we were lucky that Meryl and Drualt the fairies had breaks in their adventures or else we would have been dead."

She knew I was right. "See?" I said, gesturing at nothing. "Why can't we do something like that again?"

"Because I'm now the _responsible_ queen of Bamarre and you're my responsible consort. If I am unable to rule, it is your duty to assume the throne while R.J. is still under eighteen years of age," she explained primly. "Besides, as prince consort, you weren't the one who suffered the dire consequences after we returned."

I had an idea. I smirked. "So does that mean once R.J. turns eighteen we can do that ag—"

"No!" she replied exasperated by my persistence.

I huffed. "Then what do you suggest?" I retorted.

Addie shrugged. "I don't know," she murmured. "You think of something."

"No. You're the one who keeps cancelling, therefore you need to be the one to think of a solution." It was true. All my ideas didn't work because she wouldn't put in the effort on her part. I knew stating that would anger her, but I didn't care; she needed to hear the truth.

Addie tensed and then stood up to be (what she thought would be) more intimidating. Someone whose head barely reached my chin was not intimidating to me. "Are you saying this is _my_ fault?"

"Well, evidently it is," I replied, knowing it would enrage her.

"You think I purposely cancel just to hurt you?" she asked rhetorically. "Like I said earlier, my queenly duties come first and foremost."

Disgusted, I shook my head. "You're becoming your father," I spat. I knew saying that would cross a line.

It did. Addie looked hurt at first, and then her face twisted in anger. She stomped over to me and stood mere inches in front of me. "How dare you?" she snarled. "I don't care if you're my husband, you are out of line!"

"You're right," I agreed. "You don't care that I'm your husband. Your actions make that very clear."

She looked startled by my bold remark, but then she frowned, and for a moment I thought I saw tears. My wife shook her head jerkily. "I don't have time to argue," Addie said coldly, looking out the window to gauge the sun. "I have to go. The councilors requested my presence at a grievance hearing." Her expression softened as she observed my misery and said, "I'm sorry, Rhys." Addie took a deep breath and then left.

That apology meant nothing to me as long as her behavior remained the same. I was tired of her broken promises. I couldn't help it. I was a firm believer in upholding one's word, and I expected others to do the same. Did she not respect me enough to do that?

A minute later Matilda came back into the nursery, holding Eliza. "Is everything all right?" she asked.

I sighed. I didn't want to lie, but I also wanted to keep my martial problems private. "Why do you ask?"

"I could hear you and Addie arguing. You were actually quite loud," she admitted awkwardly.

I didn't realize we were being that loud. Not looking at Matilda, I replied, "We'll be fine. We merely had a disagreement."

I could see her skepticism, but Matilda knew better than to pry. I was an open book in terms of my personal life. However, if I wanted her to know something, I'd tell her.

Matilda's curiosity ebbed as she sat on the floor to play with Eliza again.

As I watched them play on the floor, I saw my eldest daughter rush past the nursery. She normally walked with a purpose, but that time her gait was frantic. I also heard sobs. Why was she crying? My strong-willed daughter hardly ever cried, and whenever she did, it was serious. Something terrible must have transpired for her to be in tears.

I flew out of the nursery and chased her down the corridor. "Meryl," I called.

Meryl paid me no heed, which didn't surprise me.

I managed to fly in front of her and asked, "Meryl, what happened?"

My daughter had her face covered by her hands, not wanting others to see her tears. "I don't want to talk about it with you," she responded, shaking her head. "Where's Mother?"

That hurt. What could Addie understand that I couldn't? I doubted she had "girl problems." I knew when the girls were having those because they would specifically ask for Milton, and I would stupidly ask if I could help, only to find out the awkward truth. "You just missed her," I replied, not showing offense. "But I'm willing to listen," I offered kindly with a small ray of hope that she would tell me.

My answer must have frustrated her further. "No!" she snapped, shaking her head. Meryl maneuvered around me and hurried to her chamber. I was tempted to block her path again and demand to hear what she wanted to tell Addie, but that would have made matters worse.

I really wanted to know why she was crying. Her grief grieved me even more so because she was my flesh and blood. I wanted her to know she could confide in me about anything. Just in case Addie didn't return in time, I fetched a piece of paper from my study and wrote:

_Dearest Meryl,_

_Whatever is troubling you __is deeply troubling __me. I wish there was something I could do to help. While I might not be able to solve your problem, I can always cheer for you, believe in you, or simply listen, just like the old days. According to your mother—your idol, I am her closest confidant and adviser in all things. You can trust me with anything._

_I miss you so much and crave your presence. Please know that you are deeply loved, and there is nothing you can do to change that. I'm sorry for wronging you in any way. I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me. If you need to express those past hurts, I will listen ardently and together we will find solutions._

_I love you with my whole existence; I don't know how to live without you, my beautiful dancing princess. I can only pray that someday we can start over._

_With much love,_

_Father_

_P.S. Shall we dance again?_

I slid the letter under her door. Even if she didn't read it, at least I did the right thing. I wanted nothing more than to reconcile with her. I would give anything to make it happen, even if it meant giving up my apprenticeship.

"You know she won't read it," stated R.J. as he leaned against the wall nearby.

His pessimistic attitude vexed me. I flashed him a glare as I stood. "You don't know that," I retorted.

"Yes, I do," he argued, pushing himself from the wall to approach me. The antagonistic behavior was unusual for him. Maybe it was because it concerned his disrespectful sibling. He had given up on her, but I wouldn't. "Meryl is a selfish—"

Not caring that he was wed and Bamarre's future king, I jerked my hand up to silence him. I would continue to correct his behavior until he was old enough to rule Bamarre. I was not going to stand for my son to speak ill of his own sister—my daughter. "That's enough, Rhys," I spoke. He knew he was in trouble if I addressed him by his real name. "I will not tolerate this kind of behavior—not from you or anyone else." I leaned closer and stared at him. "Do I make myself clear?"

R.J. bowed his head in submission. "Yes, Father," he affirmed.

I thanked his change of behavior and returned to the nursery where I had left Eliza with Matilda.

Taking Eliza back, Matilda asked sheepishly, "Rhys, you know how Addie mentioned your imprisonment that took place during the Great Monster War?"

I nodded in remembrance. I knew what she was going to ask.

"I was never told the full story—at least not from your point of view," she said.

"You know what happens," I said. She did. Though, she didn't hear the beginning of the story.

Matilda tilted her head, trying to think of a response. "But I like listening to your stories," she admitted. "You read aloud very well, thanks to the fullness of your deep voice."

I knew it; she just wanted to hear me read. I thanked her for the compliment. "Yes," I replied hesitantly, "but I need to get started once everyone goes to bed. It will take hours. Are you sure you want to listen for that long?"

Matilda shrugged. "We can take breaks when needed," she stated simply. "We're not human; we don't need sleep."

Good point. Why didn't I think of that? I hoped Matilda wasn't getting the wrong idea. I wasn't trying to hide anything from her; I just didn't want to bore her for hours or even slow down her studies. Since she was a part of the family, she needed to know the family's history. We agreed to meet in a few hours.

The event I would read was my darkest hour. Meryl and Drualt the fairies were away, fighting their own battles in a different realm while a war raged in Bamarre, caused by my own daughter. I embarked on my own adventure and discovered an inner strength I didn't know I had, and became a hero in my own right.


	10. Chapter 10: A Gathering Storm

**Chapter 10: A Gathering Storm**

I noticed Matilda was trying to conceal a grin when she reminded me of my upcoming birthday, not realizing that it had sparked the disagreement with my wife. Her suspicious face gave her away; there must have been something planned. I was excited to see what everyone had planned, but I couldn't help but to feel slightly indifferent, knowing that my wife wouldn't be there.

Most birthdays to sorcerers were trivial, since we had so many in a lifetime, but when we aged a century, it was considered a major milestone, for it marked our centenarian years—the equivalent of a human entering their teenage years (not in appearance, though). Sorcerers celebrated said birthdays at the citadel, and the celebration lasted all day and night. I was certain they had something planned for mine.

Orne was approaching his four hundredth birthday. We were almost exactly three hundred years apart. Four hundred was considered a huge birthday, because then a sorcerer was considered an "elder" and must pass an exam if they wanted to join the Council, and then on their four hundred-fiftieth birthday, they took another exam if they desired to serve on the High Council. Once a sorcerer was eligible to join them, the sorcerers older than one hundred voted for who they thought was most qualified to serve on the High Council. They made all major decisions for the sorcerers, and were called "masters." The High Council members were extremely powerful and wise, to sorcerer standards. It was every sorcerer's goal to die as a member of the High Council. I wanted to someday serve to prove to all sorcerers that love does not lead one astray from their studies.

Apprentices, also known as the "youth," needed guidance in the form of a teacher, especially the "youngsters," or apprentices under one hundred years old. Sorcerers who had graduated from their apprenticeship were referred to as "journeymen" or "adults". After a sorcerer celebrated their two hundredth birthday, the High Council examined their abilities to determine if the journeyman was advanced enough to mentor a "youngster" and be called a "teacher." Most journeymen were not ready to mentor an apprentice at age two hundred; only the most advanced journeymen qualified.

Apprentices had a midterm exam shortly after their one hundredth birthday. Mine would be in a week, which was why I was constantly studying for the past few days. The midterm was to assess the apprentice's progress so they knew where their weaknesses and strengths lie, and their teacher was the proctor. Orne was going to be mine, and I knew for a fact that if I performed subpar, he would blame my family. I wanted to prove him wrong by showing how a family could motivate a sorcerer. I couldn't wait to astonish him. I eagerly awaited seeing his "almost smile."

The official exam was a lengthy process that spanned a full week and went over everything the apprentice learned during their two hundred years of existence. First, there was the written portion, covering our history and codes, and then the practical portion, the most important part. If the apprentice fails the exam, they must endure the shame of being labeled an "incompetent," and are allowed to retake the exam after a year for the sake of their dignity. No sorcerer wanted to be known as an "incompetent," which was why we were constantly studying. An incompetent was forever ineligible to mentor an apprentice or serve on any council.

Age three hundred was the oldest age to be assigned an apprentice. If the sorcerer scored with flying colors on their exam by making lightning strike marble at the end, they were assigned the apprentice born from their lightning. However, if they scored averagely, they had to wait fifty years, and if they barely passed, they were given a youngster at the age of three hundred. Orne's case was unusual. He had bad luck with his apprentices: They all died young. I didn't know all the details concerning his apprentices. Like Bella, Orne cared for his apprentices by moralizing and scolding, so bringing up the details of their deaths was a grim topic to discuss for the already taciturn sorcerer.

I didn't like the idea of Orne dying before I had an apprentice. We only had one hundred more years to share and it saddened me. Orne may have driven me insane at times with his constant lectures, but he was my mentor, who taught me everything I knew about sorcery. So in a sense, he was like a father figure.

The High Council tried assigning apprentices born from regularly occurring storms to teachers of the same gender in hopes they would form a close teacher-student bond. In most cases it happened. They believed it created a better understanding if they were of the same gender. I couldn't say for sure if I agreed or disagreed. I was indifferent toward the notion.

As Matilda sat on my couch, I placed the journal on my lap and began reading.

**. . .**

After much nagging, Addie convinced me to spar with her one afternoon. I was not looking forward to sparring against my skilled wife in front of the knights, soldiers, and Meryl. As soon as we returned from our honeymoon sixteen years ago, Addie underwent a grueling regimen to become an expert martial artist in as many forms as possible. She wanted to be prepared for the next conflict that arose, whether it was in Bamarre or another kingdom. If she encountered something imposing like a dragon, she wanted to be able to kill it immediately. From day one of her training, Addie pushed herself to the limit, and it showed.

The veteran knights and weapons masters were flabbergasted at how Bamarre's once cowardly, meek princess became a fierce combatant. Addie's trainers told her she had surpassed her former sister by a long shot. But unlike her sister, Addie was not driven purely by glory; it was her desperation to bring peace that made her excel.

The knights practiced in the castle's barracks, located on the east side, behind the castle wall. Any passerby could watch if they happened to be within the vicinity during a training session. Luckily for me, I saw only a handful of off-duty servants, watching on the battlements. During practices the knights and soldiers generally sparred one-on-one with each other unless a skilled combatant (or someone who wanted to make a spectacle of their training) was sparring, then they would clear the arena and watch.

I didn't know why Addie persisted in having me spar against her. She knew she'd win, so why bother? Even when Addie was pregnant or we had a newborn, she still made time for practices. The heir apparent firmly believed in preparation. Addie claimed it would make me better if I practiced with her and the knights, but with my slow sorcerer pace of learning versus their fast human minds, I didn't see that ever happening. On top of that, sparring forced me to put my weight down or else I'd be pushed back. The whole situation was just uncomfortable, which was why sorcerers typically did not fight physically. After all those years, I was still at a basic level. I could certainly best the average squire or perhaps get lucky against a young knight, but not a driven fighter with years of intense training.

I was deemed worthy of donning a full suit of plate armor the last time we sparred, but I hated wearing it. A human's full suit of armor was scorching hot, and it was uncomfortably heavy. Yes, I knew their armor was hot and heavy to them too, but for sorcerers it was worse, because we generated more heat, and the added weight of the heavy armor threw off our balance when we allowed gravity to keep us grounded. Sorcerers were more prone to overheating than humans and whenever that happened, we became delirious until our bodies cooled. I once saw a fellow sorcerer overheat… it wasn't a pleasant sight. Their skin became red, like a sunburn, and was hot to the touch. They looked about feverishly with unfocused, weary eyes.

Despite the urging from Addie's personal squire, who was helping me dress, I chose to wear under padding, chain mail, cuisses, greaves, and my gauntlets only. If I was going to be forced to challenge Adelina the Eradicator in front of everyone, I needed mobility. Addie was renowned for her agility (even in a full suit of armor) and fighting aggressively. However, she was renowned to me for always whacking my thighs and poor fingers.

While the squire finished dressing me, our oldest daughter was dressing Addie in her full suit of armor, sans the helmet. It was considered a privilege to dress a hero or royalty. Though, I didn't understand why Addie felt the need to don the whole ensemble; I was hardly a threat to her.

"Are you sure you don't want the rest of your armor, Your Highness?" the squire asked, handing me my sword.

I told him I was certain, and then he and everyone else stepped back to watch us spar.

Head inclined, Meryl presented Blood-biter to Addie. "Good luck, Mother. May you claim victory."

Addie took the sword and thanked her.

Meryl stepped back, head still inclined until she was out of the arena.

The spectators watched in silence—they wanted to watch their beloved warrior princess shove her clumsy sorcerer consort on his backside (like the last time). But then I remembered what I was holding and smirked. I held my double-handed sword in front of me, waiting for the assured Addie to make the first move, like she always did. However, I knew something she didn't. I was going to use the magical sword I found at the citadel that I planned on giving to our daughter, Meryl. Addie was going to regret challenging me, and I was also going to surprise Meryl with the amazing gift.

Addie lunged at me and slashed diagonally.

I easily blocked the attack and slashed horizontally.

Addie jumped back only to regroup by delivering a series of agile blows. Her blows were precise and she swung with grace, not at all like my sloppy form.

This was normal, and it was also normal for me to play defense until I finally found an opening or she beat me. With the help of the magical blade, I noticed I was able to track her movements more easily. I was able to execute a successful counterstrike halfway in between Addie's attack pattern. My counterattack was surprisingly fast for the amount of forced I exerted. No matter what she delivered, I blocked or countered.

A few knights and squires cheered weakly for me until they saw me overpowering her. For a moment I thought I heard at least one person "boo" me. I wished I could have glanced over my shoulder to see who all was cheering (or booing). I knew for a fact Meryl wasn't cheering. She would never cheer for anyone who opposed her mother in the arena. It wouldn't have surprised me if she was the person who "booed" me. Meryl's timing for disrespect was impeccable.

The look on Addie's worried face was priceless. I couldn't help but to smile. I was having second thoughts about giving the sword to Meryl… No. I got it for her. Even if I didn't voice it aloud, I still made a commitment to give it to her.

Addie caught on to what was causing my unnaturally sudden improvement. She managed to trap my sword under her arm and rip it out of my hands. Tossing the weapon aside, Addie smirked at me triumphantly.

The crowd roared for their champion, shouting, "Adelina! Adelina!" Addie allowed them to cheer for her, without using a formal title.

I had to think fast. Flying was pointless because I wouldn't be able to attack in time, but physical strength could work in my favor, as I was stronger and heavier.

Addie swung at me multiple times to quickly end the match.

I wasn't going down that easily. I watched her hands carefully and waited for the point when they were at their highest. Normally, I couldn't focus on her hands long enough to grab them, but this time I was desperate to win—to prove to everyone and myself that I could defeat my wife at least once. I hated being known as the weak husband of our kingdom's new ideal. Gripping her wrists, I held her arms above her head. After barely dodging a kick, I crossed my foot behind hers and shoved her down, causing her to drop her sword.

While she regained her bearings, I collected Blood-biter and pointed it at her throat to signify my victory. I won! I, Prince Rhys, an apprentice sorcerer, defeated Princess Adelina of Bamarre! I deserved an award. I wanted my victory to be embroidered on a tapestry… by her.

The knights clapped for my victory, including Meryl, though her claps were pitiful. She clapped only because Addie taught her to applaud for the victor.

After sheathing my own sword, I helped Addie to her feet and handed her back Blood-biter. Holding her hand, I knelt to be a humble winner, but that wasn't chivalrous enough for my liking. I slid off her gauntlet and kissed her hand.

Addie smiled, pleased by my gallantry. "That was quite the match, Prince Rhys," she addressed me formally in front of the knights. "Well done," she congratulated, inclining her head to me.

Still holding her hand, I stood. "Thank you for your most gracious words, my Lady."

Taking her hand back, Addie stood tiptoe and whispered, "Meet me in the tearoom. We have visitors."

I figured it was Meryl the fairy and Drualt the laugher. I nodded. "All right," I affirmed. Occasionally we met in the tearoom when we wanted to enjoy each other's company, while admiring the view of the new garden. Only adults were allowed in the tearoom. We told our children that they may join us in the tearoom once they turned eighteen. They saw it as a rite of passage.

She walked her fingers up my collarbone flirtatiously. "I have something to tell you, and I'm sure you'll like it."

I was sure I would too. Addie was good at giving surprises. I still had the beautiful cushion she gave me years ago, and I would keep it until my dying breath.

Our daughter, Meryl, stepped forth and said to Addie, "What happened?" She was referring to Addie's loss. It was almost as if her disappointed eyes wanted to moisten. I knew she wouldn't cry over that, but her expression made it seem like she would. Her idol was defeated by her "unskilled" father.

"I lost," Addie stated simply. "Why don't you ask him how he defeated me?" she asked, gesturing at me, trying to get Meryl to talk to me in some form. Addie's personal squire proceeded to remove her armor, while she conversed with the older knights.

Meryl's demeanor changed when she stood before me, arms crossed over her chest. "How did you do it?" she asked in a cold-toned rush.

What was this, an interrogation? Crossing my arms, I said, "I'll tell you how I did it once you speak politely to me." I waited for her to soften.

Sighing, my daughter put her arms down and reiterated her question in a kinder tone.

I smiled for two reasons: she obeyed, and I was excited to present the reason to her. "That's better." I unbuckled the sword strap and presented it to her. "Behold, I have a gift for you."

Meryl took the gleaming bluish-gray scabbard and jerked the blade from its cover. Mouth agape, she examined the sword's engraving of a thunderstorm on the cross guard and a budding flame on the blade's base. It was a depiction of a sorcerer's birth.

"This sword was made long ago by a fairy and a master sorcerer, who was fascinated with swords so much that he learned how to forge them," I said. "Anyone can wield it, but only sorcerers can utilize its magical powers."

"What can it do?" asked Meryl, looking excited.

Holding out my hand, I asked, "May I?"

She passed the blade to me and stood back.

Being fully aware of its power, I launched myself in the air to ensure everyone's safety. I asked Meryl to join me in the air as high as she could fly so she could be my example. Keeping my distance, I swung the sword, creating a thundering shock wave that paralyzed Meryl for two full seconds. Once the paralysis ended, I told her to join the others on land.

I forced myself down and stabbed the ground. Lightning struck the pommel for as long as I wanted, without causing me pain. The lightning stopped and I handed the sword to Meryl, smiling. I knew she was thrilled to receive such a powerful weapon. I knew for a fact that her aunt would have loved it. A master sorcerer caught me brandishing the sword at the citadel and gave me permission to borrow it until my time as prince was over. He said it would be useful, since I was the prince of Bamarre. But I felt that it would be more befitting if Meryl used it, as she sparred on a regular basis and took the art seriously. While Meryl was still admiring the blade, I told her how the sword enhanced the wielder's speed and reminded her that only sorcerers could unleash its magic. Since she was half, it would work.

Meryl held up the sword and said, "You shall be called 'Storm.'" Meryl thanked me for the gift with the most enthusiasm that I'd seen from her in a long time, and then she did the unbelievable: she leaned stiffly toward me, offering one shoulder as a hug. Not at all like the tight, loving hugs she gave to Addie, but I'd accept it.

My smile widened as I trapped her in an affectionate, binding embrace. But smiling and hugging were not enough. I rose three feet in the air with Meryl in my arms and twirled once. Between the two of us, I think I was the happier one simply because she embraced me. As we landed softly, I planted a huge kiss on her cheek.

"Father!" she chided, wiping my kiss away with the back of her hand. She glanced around to see if anyone was laughing. A few squires were snickering in the background, but I didn't care and she shouldn't have, either. We were family, and as such, I had every right to show my love to my daughter in public if I pleased.

I released her from my hold before she died of embarrassment and resented me more. It was best not to press my luck.

Meryl scurried away and rejoined the knights and squires—her best friends, to show off her new sword. Some were interested, some were not. Some in the back sneered or rolled their eyes.

I didn't like most of her friends, which was probably why she didn't like me. As her father, it was my duty to voice said concerns whether or not she wanted to hear them. I didn't like how some of the young men treated her. But what did I know? I was just her father. The wisdom I had accumulated over ninety-eight years must have meant nothing to my _fourteen_-year-old.

Meryl seemed disappointed and they seemed unsupportive. I wanted to know what they were saying to her. I recently mastered a spell that could temporarily enhance my senses. I listened to their conversation from afar.

"Wish my sorcerer papa got me a magical sword," one squire said facetiously. "Then I'd be able to actually do something worthy."

"What are you saying?" she asked, hurt.

The same squire gestured at her. "You haven't done anything heroic, yet you're given a magical sword."

"You're only renowned because you're Princess Adelina's daughter, not because you've earned a name for yourself," a young knight joined in. How could he call himself a knight and talk like that to a lady? But they probably didn't see Meryl as a princess, since she practiced with them like any other male. I still didn't like it, though. "And now you have a magical sword that only sorcerers can use, to compensate."

Meryl's hurt expression scrunched into anger. "I am too worthy! I'll show you!" she cried. "And when I do, you'll be sorry!" She stormed off in the direction of the castle.

I did not like the sound of that, though I had learned not to intervene in her private affairs. I hoped she could and would handle the issue well.

"Careful, don't trip on your skirt," one teased before she was out of earshot.

Meryl stopped, and then continued on her way to the castle.

Finishing her conversation, Addie, now clad in an under tunic, tights, and boots, grabbed my arm. "We need to get ready for teatime. We can't have our guests waiting."

We went back to the castle to freshen up and dress in suitable clothes. R.J. wrote a poem not too long ago and desperately wanted to declaim it for us. He was very good at poetry and often times converted his poems into songs. However, this would not be one of them, he said. We granted him special permission to join us.

I was right. The fairy Meryl and the fairy Drualt were our guests of honor. Meryl and Drualt were already sitting in the tearoom, waiting for us.

The relaxing tearoom was one of my favorite rooms in the castle. It was small and decorated with pastels (mostly lilac) to make the already bright room brighter. Practically half the room had windows that stayed open while tea was served, and the walls that didn't have windows had china hutches full of antique sets. There was a short rectangular table in the center of the room, covered by a white tablecloth, surrounded by six white chairs. Multiple bouquets of lavender and roses rested on both the center of the table and on the china hutches, perfuming the breeze in the room with their sweet, calming aromas. The servants had already placed the tea set and scone dishes on the table before our arrival.

Meryl and Drualt told us about their many dangerous quests to faraway lands. They told us about terrible giant creatures that took days to vanquish. The most challenges I faced were mastering a spell or getting my wayward daughter to obey. Being a fairy must have been nice. Sorcerers admired fairies' magical powers. One could say a sorcerer was in between a fairy and a human in terms of power, leaning closer toward humans.

"I saw you gave Merry the magical sorcerer sword," Meryl stated, picking up her teacup and saucer. "I would have loved a sword like that when I was human—if I could've used its powers," she said before sipping.

Mentioning Meryl's human years no longer fazed Addie, meaning we could talk freely about the past. Though, during the first few months of our marriage, sometimes I would find a grieving Addie sitting in places that reminded her of Meryl. The first week after our honeymoon was very difficult for my still mourning bride. I remembered one afternoon I found her in Meryl's bed, sobbing. I joined her on the bed and listened to her woes, holding her close. I felt guilty for being so happy to be wed to the love of my life while my bride was miserable, mourning the loss of her sister. I knew I wasn't Meryl, and I could never take her place, but over time, Addie recovered and I eventually became her constant companion.

It also helped that we had children immediately. When Addie found out she was with child for the first time, her spirits lifted, and when we finally met our son for the first time, she found a new purpose in life. The once timid younger sister became a self-assured mother who would one day rule Bamarre. I had never seen a person change as drastically as the now fearless Adelina.

"Indeed," Drualt agreed, setting his cup and saucer down. "I would have loved a sword like that too."

R.J. finished his tea first and stood. He bowed. "I would like to declaim if it's all right with everyone," he said politely. R.J. turned toward Addie. "It's the closing excerpt from the poem I wrote in your honor, called _Two Princesses_."

"Let's hear it," said Drualt.

Our son made us proud. I wanted to pat him on the back to show how proud I was of him for wanting to honor his mother, but I'd wait.

R.J. took a deep breath and began.

"The sisters embraced

And then they parted,

Their faces tear-washed.

But they wept no more,

And smiled instead, laughed

At what would come,

Whatever would come, though

Hoping, hoping, someday

To embrace again."

R.J.'s delivery was expressive. I glanced at Addie, who was holding Meryl's hand. I remembered watching them embrace on Mount Ziriat before departing for Haun Ocean. R.J. had listened closely to our tale while growing up.

"Now, when specter haunts,

Or dragon flames,

Or ogre attacks,

Or gryphon descends,

Bamarre fights on,

And the timid march

With the strong.

The tailor, the cook,

The farmer, the queen—

From village, from field,

From castle, from wood—

Bamarre, land of heroes,

Fights on."

I glanced at Drualt and saw him holding up a triumphant fist.

"Step follows step.

Hope follows courage.

Set your face toward danger.

Set your heart on victory—

Victory for Bamarre!"

The recitation was over. R.J. swept us a deep bow with many flourishes and said, "Thank you." He was definitely my son.

Addie, Meryl, and Drualt clapped, whereas I applauded wildly. I was so proud of his performance. I hoped R.J. would pursue declaiming more. With practice he could become as good as his fairy godmother.

"R.J., that was wonderful," Meryl complimented. If Meryl complimented a declamation, it was excellent. "Don't you agree, Dru?"

Drualt nodded. "Absolutely!" he agreed. "That poem was beautiful and so was your delivery."

R.J. blushed from the shower of praise. "Thank you."

The door swung open, revealing my sons, Gavin and Drualt.

I laughed as their eyes stood out from their faces when they saw Drualt the fairy.

"Uncle Drualt!" they shouted, rushing into the tearoom to play with their fairy godfather, who was also the self-proclaimed uncle of my children.

Bella entered, panting. "Boys, you know you're not supposed to be in there!" she chastised, making her way over to the twins.

Drualt the fairy took the boys and set them down on each leg. "If you sit with me, will you behave?"

The twins nodded vigorously and sat quietly. I wished they would behave that easily for me without threats. I used Drualt to blackmail them when they were rambunctious, threatening that Drualt would never see them again because they were misbehaving. It worked every single time.

"It's all right, Bella. They can stay with us," Addie said, nodding approvingly.

Bella curtsied and left.

So much for the rite of passage.

Drualt told the twins about some of his battles when he was human. Wide-eyed, they listened intently. He did that for a good ten minutes until an unexpected visitor entered.

We all looked up and stared at the king, who stood still in the doorway, surveying the room.

"Greetings, Father," Addie said pleasantly, surprised to see Lionel. "Care to join us?" she asked, gesturing at the last open chair.

Lionel scanned the room to gauge the importance of his presence. He took a step back once he met eyes with Meryl. I had a feeling I knew why. "I must go," he stated, turning around.

"Wait," Addie started, "before you go, you must know something..." Grabbing my hand, Addie looked at me and announced, "I'm pregnant with our seventh child." Then she looked at her father to see his reaction.

Meryl and Drualt smiled and congratulated us.

Excited, I kissed Addie's hand and then leaned over to kiss her.

Lionel turned back around and stared at Addie. He smiled at her awkwardly and said with a nod, "Congratulations, Daughter." He tried to leave again.

"Stay with us, Father-in-law," I urged kindly, in hopes of bringing the family closer. Having both Addie and Meryl together in the same room with Lionel was extremely rare. No matter how many times I got rejected or ignored, I never stopped trying because I firmly believed in family togetherness.

My father-in-law looked at me for a moment and then sat. He seemed the most comfortable around me, since I worked for him for five years, acting like his personal assistant. The king may have been awkward and aloof with Addie, but not with me _as_ much. He probably spoke more words to me during my five-year service than he did with both his girls throughout their lives. But I still did most of the talking whenever we did speak.

"Stay, Grandfather!" Gavin begged. They flew out of their fairy godfather's lap, faster than he had time to react, and landed in Lionel's lap, hugging him tightly.

Lionel was startled by them sitting in his lap so suddenly. One could tell that he felt uneasy having his grandsons that close, hanging on to him.

The twins looked up at him with their innocent, affectionate eyes. "I love you, Grandfather," said Drualt.

"I do, too," Gavin added.

Mouth slightly ajar, the king stared at them, not knowing how to process their affection or what to say in response. He pried Drualt from his neck and put him down, and then did the same with Gavin.

The boys slumped and whined. "Play with us, Grandfather," Gavin whimpered.

Lionel ignored them and headed for the door at a pace that surprised me.

The twins started sobbing with abandon. My father-in-law had brought my poor babies to tears. If he were not the king, I would have yelled at him for hurting my three-year-old sons.

"Gavin, Drualt; come here," I called, arms outstretched to receive them. I hated when my kids cried.

Heart-broken, they flew into my arms and sobbed.

Addie slammed her cup down and stood up. Her chair shot out behind her and fell over. It was just like when we met years ago, but this time Addie was livid. "How many more times are you going to neglect a child?" she snapped. Addie gestured at our sons. "They just told you that they loved you! You could at least hug them back! What's wrong with you?" she demanded angrily.

Was she out of her mind? Did she forget who she was addressing? I was frozen in place and so was everyone else, including the twins. I had never seen Addie that mad in my life. Her anger reminded me of a mother bear, protecting her young. I didn't know what to do. This was too personal, even for my place in the family. After all, I was an in-law, not a blood relative.

Addie shook her head furiously. "I've never understood you!" she cried. "But now that I'm a parent, you baffle me further." Tears formed in her eyes. "How can you neglect your own flesh?" she asked more calmly. "How?" Her tears fell uncontrollably until her face twisted with rage. "You're an awful parent!"

My eyes widened. I couldn't believe what she just said to the king. Addie had taught our children to respect her father, yet she was doing the opposite. I was expecting him to arrest her at any moment for disrespecting him so blatantly, like what he almost did to Merry a year ago.

Addie gestured at me.

Please don't bring me into this, Addie. Do _not_ bring me into this. Having the king resent me was the last thing I needed.

"Look at Rhys," she stated, shaking her hand emphatically. "He's ten times the father to our children than you ever were to me!"

I stared at my teacup and nothing else. If I looked up, I would have met eyes with Lionel. He probably hated me now that Addie compared us. I wished she would stop. This was the most uncomfortable situation I had ever been in. I wondered what the others looked like, but I didn't dare look up.

"You're spineless, cold, and only care for yourself!" she roared, face red. "You didn't come to my wedding—_the_ most important day of my life! And you didn't mourn for Meryl—your firstborn!" Addie shouted. "If you weren't such a selfish coward, Meryl would be sitting here with us as a human! But I guess that means nothing to an indifferent, poltroon of a father like you!"

Did she want to get arrested? I had to do something before that happened. I reached up at her with an uncertain hand. "Addie, that's enough," I murmured.

She glowered at me and shouted, "Stay out of this!" And then she looked at her father again.

All right, suit yourself, I thought. I dropped my hand and did as she commanded. It appeared R.J. would succeed the throne much sooner than expected.

"You can't even think for yourself! You need that stupid book of yours to decide everything for you!" Tears formed again, and she wiped them away. "I wish you weren't my father," she whimpered. "You don't love me—"

"That's not true," Lionel breathed, shaking his head subtly.

His response floored me. I couldn't resist; I had to look at him. There were tears in his eyes. I couldn't blame him; I would have cried too if my kids said those hurtful things to me. For the first time, I felt sorry for him for having to endure Addie's vicious verbal assault. I ached for my father-in-law. I could only pray that my children would never say such hurtful things to me.

Lionel stared at Addie for what felt like an eternity, and then he walked out the door stiffly.

After Lionel shut the door, everyone relaxed either by sighing or slumping.

Meryl glared at Addie. "I can't believe you said those things, Addie," she chided.

Addie met Meryl's glare with her own. "How can you of all people say that? He needs to know the truth!"

Disappointed, Meryl shook her head. "No, Addie. _You_ do." What did she mean?

Addie looked as confused as I was.

Meryl sighed. "King Lionel has endured a tremendous amount of pain. He never told us anything about his past, but I can see why," she said miserably. "It wasn't until I became a fairy when I learned why he's the way he is." She paused. "I should have shown you long ago."

We leaned forward, waiting for her to explain.

Meryl poured the remainder of her tea into her palm and willed it to hover over and expand to the same size as the table so everyone could see. The watery image cleared and a scene took shape.

**. . .**

Someone knocked on my door, interrupting my story. "Come in," I said, looking up from my journal.

In came a curious Daria, clad in her pastel pink nightdress.

"What are you doing out of bed, young lady?"

Daria flinched guiltily. "I couldn't sleep," she said in a rush. My ten-year-old happily hopped onto the couch next to Matilda.

"What are you doing?" I asked appalled that she was sitting down on my couch instead of trying to go back to sleep.

"I want to hear the story," she replied.

Exasperated, I sighed. "All right, but if you fall asleep, I'm not waking you."

She asked what story I was telling, and I told her. Daria looked at me expectantly. I looked down and searched for where I left off.


	11. Chapter 11: An Unspoken Past

**Chapter 11: ****An ****Unspoken ****Past**

In the scene there were four riders on horseback, riding to Lake Orrinic. It was a middle-aged father who resembled Lionel, with three boys. The eldest was sixteen, the middle son was twelve, and the youngest, who was Lionel, was ten.

"Lionel was the youngest of three sons," Meryl informed, making the scene dissolve and then form into another scene. It showed the father standing next to his wife. "Lionel's father, King Terrell, had an arranged marriage with Princess Astrid from the kingdom of Tyor."

The scene changed to a sword-wielding King Terrell, riding a horse, battling a gryphon. "King Terrell was a valiant king with a heart of gold. He was determined to find the cure to the Gray Death to save the kingdom. The Bamarrians adored him."

Terrell's image dissolved into Queen Astrid's image. Studying her gray eyes, high smooth brow, and her narrow bone structure, I was reminded of... "Addie, you're the spitting image of your grandmother," I noted, glancing back and forth at the two. Remarkable. It was amazing how some humans' offspring looked almost identical to their parents or grandparents. "Except her hair is curly and yours is straight."

Meryl continued on with the story. "Queen Astrid was a power-hungry, wicked queen. She was jealous of her sons because they were in line for the throne and she was not, being a woman in those times," Meryl spoke solemnly. "In the public eye, she was charismatic and thoughtful, but in private, she was a viper." The image showed the queen laughing jovially in court, and then screaming and hitting a cowering Lionel in the solar.

Addie covered her mouth sympathetically. "That's awful... Why would a parent do such a thing?"

Meryl stared at Addie somberly and said nothing.

The scene changed to what Addie's chamber was decades ago, but with masculine decor, and with the middle eldest son, aged by two years from the previous scene, in bed. King Terrell and his other sons surrounded the bed. The king held his sick son's hand and made a vow.

"When King Terrell's middle child, Gareth, contracted the Gray Death at age fourteen, Terrell swore that he and his eldest son, Hector, would find the cure," Meryl said. "Not wanting to part with his father, Lionel begged to come with them."

The image dissolved into Mulee Forest with King Terrell, his sons, and a female apprentice sorcerer, standing in front of a laughing specter.

"Terrell asked the specter how to make rain fall over the land. The specter told him to find a fairy."

We saw the four of them traveling north on horseback. Then from out of seemingly nowhere, a flock of gryphons swooped down and pinned Terrell and Hector, horse and all, to the ground, and started feasting.

I didn't want my three-year-old boys to see someone get torn apart by gryphons. I needed to divert their attention. "Boys, I want you to count as loud as you can every time I blink." That should keep them distracted.

The boys did as they were told.

I resumed watching, making sure I blinked often.

The sorceress drew her sword and rocketed forward to save King Terrell, who was nearest to her, and stabbed the creature. She was too late, though. The king may have been alive, but his throat had too many gashes for him to survive. He told her to protect Lionel.

Lionel's horse reared up in fright, knocking the twelve-year-old from his saddle. As the horse began to gallop away, another gryphon knocked it over and began eating.

Wide-eyed, Lionel caught a glimpse of his brother's bloody corpse, who died instantly after landing on his neck, being feasted upon. Lionel flipped over, and tried to crawl away, but then a gryphon pinned him down, and began tearing into his back, causing the twelve-year-old to cry out in agony.

The sorceress lunged and impaled the gryphon on its side. As she withdrew her sword, the creature swatted her arm with its paw, ripping open her flesh, before falling over. The sorceress took Lionel in her arms and flew in the direction of Bamarre castle.

"The sorceress carried Lionel home, but in doing so, she bled to death," Meryl said.

It showed the weary sorceress landing in front of the main gate and then collapsing. Next, the scene skipped to a weeping Lionel at the dead middle brother's bedside. Queen Astrid stood behind Lionel and concealed a grin.

We saw a younger Milton instructing Lionel to extend his limbs in certain ways, only to discover that Lionel couldn't. Milton directed him to walk and then run. His walk was at best a stagger and he fell over after the second step in his run.

"The gryphon that attacked Lionel left permanent damage, limiting his mobility. Over time he learned how to readjust, but he never fully recovered."

So that was why he was slow. That made sense.

Then the bubble showed Queen Astrid sitting haughtily on the throne, wearing the crown and holding the scepter, with gold stacking high on either side and behind her.

"Queen Astrid became the sovereign of Bamarre. Thanks to her, Bamarre's economy was at its greatest high in history. Its military force was strong, the food supply abundant, and for the first time, women had rights. She proved to everyone that a woman could successfully lead a nation. The kingdom flourished under her rule, all except her own son. Without Terrell in the way, Astrid began relentlessly abusing her twelve-year-old son to prevent him from ever trying to claim what was rightfully his. Since Lionel suffered from the memory of Terrell and Hector's deaths and lived in constant fear of his mother, he became afraid of nearly everything. The smallest things would trigger uncontrollable panic."

The scene showed Astrid shoving a teenage Lionel against a wall, and then screaming what appeared to be "you fool." Once she left the chamber, Lionel dropped to the floor, breathing heavily. Holding his heaving chest, he gazed at the ceiling, fighting back tears, and then he balled up into a fetal position.

Tears formed in Addie's eyes. "So that's why..." she breathed. A tear fell. "Oh, Father..."

"Being the youngest of three sons, no one expected him to inherit the throne, therefore he was not taught how to rule. Queen Astrid ensured Lionel didn't get the throne on his eighteenth birthday by convincing the councilors of his incompetence. She told them he was simple, slothful, and cowardly—everything she was not." Meryl paused. "This went on until Lionel turned thirty."

In the next scene I saw Lionel sitting on the bench in the old courtyard, but it was new at that time, watching the apprentice sorcerer show off his powers. And I thought I was the only apprentice who broke that rule. When the sorcerer was done, he swept Lionel a deep bow. The scene zoomed in on the sorcerer's face; he bore an uncanny resemblance to me! If we weren't sorcerers, I would have thought we were related.

"Lionel befriended Astrid's apprentice sorcerer. He was Lionel's best friend and confidant."

The scene showed Lionel laughing with the sorcerer in the sorcerer's chamber. Watching Lionel laugh made me smile, as I had never seen him laugh in the twenty years I had known him. Then it dissolved into a banquet at Bamarre castle in the ballroom. It showed Queen Astrid greeting two other monarchs.

"Astrid sought to expand Bamarre, offering a merger alliance by having her son marry Princess Daria of the bankrupt kingdom of Krumalia. It was better for Krumalia to become Bamarre than have the people revolt against the royal family." The bubble expanded even bigger, and we heard sound as if we were actually at the banquet. I had no idea Meryl could make the bubbles have sound. I preferred it that way; it immersed me better in the story.

Queen Astrid smiled as she guided Lionel to stand in front of Daria's parents, pretending to be the kind, loving mother she was not. "May I present to you my son, Prince Lionel of Bamarre."

The king of Krumalia did the same with his sixteen-year-old daughter.

Lionel bowed and Daria curtsied.

Daria had the sweetest smile that reminded me of my daughter, Daria. I could see a strong resemblance between Meryl the fairy and her former mother. Both were blonde, fair, and short. I could tell Daria had focused energy by the way she carried herself. She gazed at Lionel and said, "My, you are handsome! I wasn't expecting you to be this attractive. I can't wait to write my friends and tell them. They'll be jealous!"

Lionel blushed and thanked her.

I remembered how Addie used to be shy like that. She most definitely took after her father's side in mannerisms and appearance.

The scene skipped to later that night. Daria and Lionel sat outside the ballroom on a stone bench. Daria handed Lionel a cloth parcel.

Confused, Lionel took the parcel and asked, "What's this?"

"It's an engagement gift. Open it," she urged, gently shaking his arm.

He unwrapped the small parcel, revealing _The Book of Homely Truths_.

"It's my favorite book," she explained. "I'm a seeker of truth and wisdom, especially during difficult times. I think all royalty should do the same, don't you?"

Lionel nodded absentmindedly as he opened the book to the first page and read.

Now we understood why he kept that book close to him at all times and consulted it constantly. I looked at Addie to see her reaction. She just sat there blankly. I wished I knew what she was thinking.

They talked about various things. With Daria's bubbly personality and vibrant energy, Lionel was slowly coming alive. Watching a flashback of the detached king smiling and laughing made me smile. The next broached topic caught my attention. Daria grabbed Lionel's hand and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I don't know about you, but I want our marriage to have love," she said, lifting her head off his shoulder. "Marrying someone just because of rank is a shallow tradition. I believe a person should marry whoever they want, regardless of rank. Love is love," the princess stated. "Since we didn't have a say in the matter, I have made up my mind to love you. We can choose to be miserable or we can make the best of our situation by loving each other. The choice is ours."

I liked her attitude. She may have been a prisoner of her parents' wishes, but she refused to let that burden her. Instead, she chose to make her situation positive.

Lionel gazed at Daria as if he were trying to comprehend her views. He finally nodded. "I think you're right. I've never thought I was fundamentally better just because I'm royalty. In fact, my best friend is a sorcerer. I've always been fond of sorcerers. The ones I've met are kind and polite to me. One even saved my life when I was a child."

Daria squeezed Lionel's hand and said, "That's wonderful! It's refreshing to hear that coming from a prince." She shook her head. "Despite being a princess, I love to explore the unknown." The princess gazed at her hands. "I want to see the world with my own eyes and touch it with my own hands."

Lionel waited and listened.

"I can't stand being confined indoors for too long," she stated, looking at him. "I was raised to be a proper princess, like all princesses are, but I prefer the outdoors." Her face lit with excitement. One could see her passion for exploration. "After we're wed, I'll take you with me." The princess balled her fists in excitement. "I can't wait to show you what my spyglass and seven-league boots can do." As Lionel was about to protest, she added, "We're going to have so much fun." Daria put her head back down on his shoulder.

Lionel closed his mouth and rested his head on hers. After seeing how Astrid abused him, I was happy to see him with someone who made up their mind to love him unconditionally. And after seeing Addie's grandmother, I was glad to see that her mother was the complete opposite.

Meryl cleared the bubble and said, "Within a week, they were wed."

We saw Lionel and Daria sitting on a blanket on Lake Orrinic's shore, happily reading _Homely Truths_ together. Then a shadow passed over the newlyweds, making a panting Lionel survey his surroundings in terror. He finally stopped looking around with his tear-soaked eyes and held his heaving chest, panting harder than ever. That state of sheer panic looked uncomfortable and embarrassing, especially for a prince. Lionel's eyes glazed over as he slowly fell to one side.

Daria leaned against Lionel before he could fall and wrapped her arms around him, holding him securely. "It's gone, Husband," she whispered. "It's far away by now." And she crooned a stanza from _Drualt_.

"Step follows step.

Hope follows courage.

Set your face toward danger.

Set your heart on victory."

Lionel wiped his tears and glared at her. He looked offended. "Do you think I choose to be this way?" he managed to ask in between pants. "I've been like this since I was a child and it's only gotten worse as the years go by."

Daria softened into understanding. "Does anyone know about it?"

He shook his head. "Just Milton," he replied. Lionel squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. "That's why I didn't want to come here. I can't leave the castle without having an episode. I'm afraid of having one in front of people. Can you imagine what people would do if they knew?"

"What does Milton say you should do?" Daria asked.

"He's convinced that I should see Queen Seema, as her knowledge of herbs surpasses any elf. She has powerful herbs in her personal garden that only she has access to."

Daria's expression scrunched into confusion mixed with exasperation. "Then for fairy's sake, let her see you!"

Lionel no longer held his chest and his panting eased into steady deep breaths. "It's not that simple," he said. "I would have to go see the elf queen at her castle or she would have to come see me," he explained. "Either way, Mother would never allow it. And who knows, Queen Seema might use it against me in some way."

"But I've heard in my geography lessons that the road to her castle is the safest in the kingdom. We could go there and hurry back."

Lionel shook his head. "It takes days to get there."

"Then we'll hurry," she countered.

"The more I hurry, the more likely I am to have one, and it would especially make it worse if I were to deceive Mother. Did you see how easily I panicked just a few minutes ago?" he asked. "That's what happens every time I leave the castle. Something minute as a shadow or a sound will trigger an attack."

Daria moistened her lips in thought. "Even if you had a battalion of knights to accompany you?"

"_Especially_ if I had a battalion of knights to accompany me," he said, almost shuddering at the thought. "Having a crowd of people near when there's a high risk of me having an episode would just guarantee that I'd have one. If I had to leave the castle, I'd only want my closest knights with me. But even still, I'd have to seek Mother's approval, which she would never grant." Lionel shook his head again. "I don't want anyone to know about my weakness."

Daria frowned. "It's not a weakness," she corrected sternly. "You can't help it."

"I'm destined to be King someday, yet I suffer from uncontrollable panic. That's embarrassing." His face became solemn. "Please do not speak of this to anyone."

Daria agreed and then sighed. One could tell that she knew convincing him otherwise was pointless. "I still don't understand why your mother doesn't want you to get better," she said, gathering her legs into a fetal position. "I don't understand why she treats you so shamefully."

Lionel's eyes glazed over, and he looked away. "I don't know," he mumbled.

Daria cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. "I give you my word, I will never harm you in any way, and I will never harm our children."

Lionel's eyes widened. "Children?"

"We have to have children; we're the future king and queen."

"There's no way I can care for another person with my condition," he said incredulously.

"But you'll have me. I'll be there to help raise our children."

If only that were true. Hearing Addie's mother say that made me feel like someone splashed my flame.

Daria pressed her forehead against his and said, "No more secrets, all right? We're married—we're one flesh."

Lionel nodded in agreement, and then Daria kissed him tenderly. Lionel pulled Daria close and they shared a passionate kiss.

"Princess Daria did everything in her power to help with Prince Lionel's condition by taking him along with her everywhere she went in hopes of desensitizing him. Her plan was succeeding because Lionel enjoyed being with her so much. The frequency and intensity of his panic attacks were lessening."

I glanced at Addie; she was smiling. It pleased her to know her parents were in love. Before then, we had no idea if Lionel and Daria were in love. He never said a word about her to me and probably not to Addie, so I figured it was a loveless arranged marriage. How wrong I was.

Then it showed Lionel reading _Homely Truths_ in a chair with his slipper-covered feet propped up on a footrest in front of a fire. Daria entered, holding a blanket, and snatched Lionel's slippers off his feet. She draped the blanket over his feet before scurrying into the corridor, giggling.

Lionel considered chasing after her, but then he reclined back into a comfortable position and resumed reading. That looked about right; he didn't move much. Later that day, Daria came waltzing back into the same room, presenting Lionel's slippers. He took the slippers and admired the chess piece embroidery she had sewn on the tops. The left slipper bore a black king piece and the right slipper bore a white queen piece. They were _almost_ as good as Addie's. Lionel kissed Daria and thanked her. Now I understood why he wanted his slippers so badly when he was traveling to Haun Ocean to speak with Queen Seema. _Homely Truths_ and his slippers were his most prized possessions because they were from his precious wife. If I had a depressing upbringing, I would greatly cherish anything from a sweet wife.

"Queen Astrid did not like how close Lionel and Daria became nor did she like Daria's pure heart. She sought to end Lionel's happiness by plotting to murder Daria and to find another princess for him to marry so she could expand Bamarre's borders and collect the handsome dowry," said Meryl, making the bubble change. "Astrid also wanted to use him to sire a child with another princess so she could raise it to be her puppet. While the submissive Lionel was easy for her to control, she couldn't stand his personality, for he did not possess a wicked heart like she did."

Astrid beckoned the apprentice sorcerer to come closer to her in the solar. She presented a sheathed stiletto and gave him orders to kill Daria when the opportune moment arrived. Horrified, the sorcerer took the stiletto in his quivering hand and stuffed it into his doublet. Astrid grinned at his obedience.

Next, the sorcerer rushed outside into the old courtyard where Daria and Lionel were visiting. He showed Lionel the stiletto and told him the horrendous news. Daria covered her mouth and Lionel's eyes widened in horror.

A dozen armed guards rushed into the courtyard, followed by a furious Astrid. Some guards were archers, some were swordsmen.

"Lucas, you are under arrest for attempted murder of Princess Daria!" Astrid shouted, pointing. "Arrest him."

Lucas launched himself upward but was shot down by numerous arrows. He slammed against the ground so hard I felt as if my own breath was knocked from my lungs.

Astrid crouched before him and grabbed his chin mockingly. "You shall die at dawn for treason," she growled. "That's if you don't die on your own in the dungeon."

Meryl cleared the scene. "Lucas was sentenced to death by drowning, since air is the only thing a sorcerer requires." The new scene showed the sorcerers cremating the body at the citadel. Sorcerers burned their dead. We came into the world through fire, so that's how we preferred to leave.

And then it abruptly changed to a human burial scene. In the scene the crowd left a stunned Lionel and heavily pregnant Daria alone as they stared at Astrid's gravestone.

"Months later Queen Astrid died," said Meryl.

"Wait, she wasn't that old. How did she die?" Addie asked.

"Heart failure, from constantly being enraged and overworked," Meryl answered. "The heart condition runs in the family."

"As terrible as it sounds, I'm... glad it happened—for our parents' sake," Addie admitted guiltily.

Meryl held up a finger. "Queen Astrid may have been a wicked person to her family and servants, but she did make Bamarre into a powerhouse kingdom and gave women more rights. Because of her, Lionel was not required to remarry to produce a son."

It was surprising to hear someone dying of something other than the Gray Death. I didn't like the sound of heart problems running in Addie's family, though. That could mean Addie or one of our children could develop problems later in life.

The scene changed to Lionel and Daria being crowned, and then it changed to Daria holding a baby Meryl in the lying-in chamber, with Lionel sitting beside her on the bed. Daria gazed happily at Meryl and passed her to Lionel. He stared at her for a moment before smiling modestly, which baffled me because when all my children were born, I cried. Then again, he and I were complete opposites.

Next, it showed Addie and Meryl as toddlers, playing in the nursery with their parents in the floor with them. The family was building a castle made of wooden blocks.

"King Lionel's presence was needed at a peace treaty signing in a kingdom far away. He wouldn't be back for weeks," Meryl explained as the scene showed Daria sick in bed. "During that time, the young queen contracted the Gray Death." She paused. "The word didn't make it in time. The queen died hours before Lionel's return."

The scene skipped ahead to the end of the burial when everyone was gone. Lionel fell to his knees over her grave, mourning the loss of his soulmate. He balled his fist and pounded the ground. "I can't do this alone," he uttered. The king shook his head and more tears fell. "Why? Why do all my loved ones die? First Father and Hector, then Gareth, and then Lucas, and now you, Daria." He paused to breathe. "I can't take it anymore," he whimpered.

"That day, Lionel gave up the will to live. Losing his wife threw him into a deep state of despair that he never recovered from," Meryl explained gravely.

The sun set into evening and Lionel was still mourning over Daria's grave. The current apprentice sorcerer approached him from behind. "Sire, you haven't eaten all day, and your daughters are crying for you. They need their father—"

"Send for a nursemaid," Lionel ordered softly.

The sorcerer blinked, stunned by Lionel's command. "But Sire, they want—"

Lionel glanced back at the sorcerer. "Do as I say," he said firmly.

The sorcerer bowed and said, "Yes, Sire."

"Without Daria in his life anymore, Lionel's uncontrollable episodes of panic worsened, and as we grew into young women, our faces reminded him of his wicked mother and the love of his life that he had lost," Meryl said. She looked at Addie and said, "He did not _let_ me die as easily as you think. Let me show you his side of the story that..." Meryl stopped, and seemed to be listening to something with her fine fairy senses. "I must leave you for a few seconds. I won't be long," she said.

"Wait, you can't just leave right before telling us Father's side of the story," said an impatient Addie.

I agreed with Addie; I wanted to know Lionel's side of the story. We all thought the worst in him, but we were slowly being shown differently. I wanted to know more!

"Sorry, Addie, but I must. There's a creature in the black abyss, heading for Bamarre," the fairy explained. In the blink of an eye, Meryl flew out the window.

Sighing, I slouched in my chair and waited. I despised wretched cliffhangers!


	12. Chapter 12: Unspoken Truths

**Chapter 12: Unspoken Truths **

I blinked again and Meryl was seated in her chair.

"I told you it'd only be a few seconds," she said, smiling. The fairy waved her hand and another scene took place in the bubble.

We saw Milton and Lionel standing inside Lionel's chamber, facing each other. Milton handed Lionel a pouch full of moily herbs. "These will keep you calm on your trek to Queen Seema's castle," Milton informed.

The king took the pouch and tied it to his belt.

Milton handed Lionel a small stack of papers, bearing the elf's handwriting. "These are your medical records. Give these to Queen Seema so she can prescribe stronger herbs for your mission," he instructed.

Lionel shook his head. "I don't want her to know of my condition," he protested stubbornly.

Milton inclined his head. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, the queen must know of your condition before she can prescribe anything," he explained. "Think of your daughter, Sire."

The king nodded slowly. "You're right. I must do it for Meryl."

Next, it showed the king's retinue resting for the night in the camp. I remembered that night. It was a few nights after I had reluctantly delivered his slippers. At the time, I thought he was being pathetic for wanting his slippers, but now I understood why he asked me to do that: to give himself reassurance from his beloved late wife—the person who gave him confidence and tranquility—in the form of a gift.

The knights and squires were roasting meat over a flame, laughing and telling stories. In the image, I was sitting beside Lionel, who kept himself somewhat isolated from the party but near his personal tent. We didn't say much to each other, even though he was the one who told me to sit beside him. Eventually, he leaned closer to me and said, "How are my—" but then we heard the distinctive gryphon squawks coming from above.

As the knights dropped their plates and grabbed their weapons, Lionel hurried into his tent. He had to retreat or else he would have been frozen with fear. Years ago, when that incident happened, I was annoyed by his cowardice, but now I understood and felt terrible for judging his outward reaction. He probably feared gryphons more than anything else, due to his back injury.

The gryphon swooped down and snatched the roasting meat from the spit and immediately began eating.

A handful of archers shot down the gryphon before it had the chance to escape.

Once the beast crashed to the ground, one knight confirmed its death and cheered, prompting the rest of the party to cheer as well.

Not wanting anyone to be left out (even if I felt he didn't deserve it at the time), I called to Lionel from outside his tent, but then he told me to celebrate without him.

The bubble showed Lionel inside the tent, suffering from sheer panic. His face was already perspiring as he held his heaving chest, scanning his surroundings with great paranoia. The king reached for the pouch Milton gave him and fumbled with the drawstring. His trembling hands were finally able to open the pouch, but he was unable to grab the herbs. It appeared that his desperation for tranquility only succeeded in making him more panicked until he passed out.

The scene jumped to the meeting Lionel had with Seema in her solar. Both sovereigns were seated.

"What brings you here, King Lionel?" asked the elf queen.

"My eldest daughter has contracted the Gray Death." He hung his head in despair.

Seema frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that, and I am sorry to say that I do not know of a cure or where to find one, if you were wondering." The elf queen furrowed her brow in confusion. "If I knew of one, I would tell all my elves."

The king sighed in defeat and slumped. He paused before speaking again. "That's not the only reason why I am here. I want to find the cure to save her, but I have..." he looked down in shame. Lionel swallowed nervously. "I..." Lionel opened his mouth but words did not escape. "I have another problem that I hope you can help with..."

Seema leaned forward curiously. "What is it?"

Lionel reached inside his mantle and pulled out the papers Milton had given him and handed them to her.

The queen read the records carefully. "You're wanting a prescription for this, yes?"

He nodded weakly.

"Of all herbs..." her voice trailed off as she shook her head.

"What is it?"

She met eyes with Lionel. "The herb that you need comes from overseas. It takes months for it to arrive."

"Months?" he breathed. "I can't wait that long. Meryl is dying."

Seema shook her head. "As your private physician, I cannot allow you to go," she declared sternly.

Lionel glared at her. "And what if I did anyway?" he challenged. "Milton gave me several moily herbs—"

She gasped. "He prescribed you moily herbs?" she exclaimed. The queen placed her fingertips on her forehead and shook her head. "Those don't work on patients with your condition." Seema closed her eyes and muttered, "He never was that good at psychiatric herbs..."

The king was becoming perturbed. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Go home and send someone else to search for a cure," she answered matter-of-factly. "Do your girls know of your condition?"

"No, and it shall remain so," he replied to her latter question. "In the past I have sent several emissaries to search for the cure to the Gray Death. _Homely Truths_ tells me that this is not enough. That is why I am here. I want to first find a way to stop my uncontrollable panic attacks so I can save Meryl."

The exasperated queen stood, hand on forehead. She paced. "You're willing to embark on a quest that will more than likely kill you, with your serious condition, to _try_ and save one daughter and leave the other parentless? Being underage, Bamarre will be run by a regency. More than likely Chancellor Desmond will become Regent until Adelina turns eighteen. But tell me, is your second child—the one who was not conditioned for the throne—ready to rule a kingdom at such a young age?"

Lionel stared at the floor in thought.

"Also, regents are known for doing everything in their power to prevent the rightful heir from receiving their birthright. You of all people are aware of that," she murmured.

He nodded with conviction. "I am willing to die trying. I want to save Meryl... and Addie."

Confused, Seema looked at him.

"Meryl is Addie's everything. Losing Meryl will be the end of her," he said gravely. Lionel stared at his palm. "I know what it's like to lose siblings prematurely. I do not wish that upon my girls."

"But what will you do? Where will you go?"

"I'll find an answer tonight," he said.

The sovereigns ended their meeting by bowing and curtsying.

The next scene showed me landing in front of his tent, holding an envelope addressed to King Lionel, and him granting me entry. Being a vassal, I had no business opening that letter, nor did I care what was inside at the time. All I was concerned about was delivering it to my superior. I bowed, handed him the letter, bowed again, and then he dismissed me.

We saw him opening the letter that read:

_King Lionel of Bamarre,_

_Your monster infestation has now reached my borders in the kingdom of Pevir. As king of Pevir, I demand a hearing with my ambassador within a week to formulate a strategy to eliminate the infestation. Failure to comply will lead to immediate military action. _

_King Salah of Pevir_

Lionel crumpled the paper in one hand and stared at the wall of his tent. Fist clenched, his breathing became heavy, not from fear but from anger. From my understanding, the king of Pevir was merely four years older than Addie. I was certain it was infuriating to an older king to be threatened by someone young enough to be his son. Bamarre may have been wealthier and more resourceful, but Pevir was renowned for its infantry and for its mysterious aerial force, something Bamarre lacked. "If I refuse, many of my subjects will die and the economy will plummet," he whispered to himself. "The monsters are already killing hundreds and the Gray Death kills even more." He paused. "Bamarre endures many premature deaths as it is. As King, it is my duty to maintain peace, therefore I cannot allow my people to carry another burden." The king ran a hand down his worried face and began reading from _Homely Truths_. After reading a few adages, he closed the book. "I have no other choice but to send more emissaries to search for a cure," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Daughter..." Not wanting anyone to find out about the war threat, the king tore the letter into shreds and left the tent.

He called out to me and I went to him. Lionel told me to let his councilors know he was coming home because he needed to seek council.

I remembered feeling frustrated and ashamed to be the vassal of such a weak person, but then I realized that I was terribly mistaken. He had no other choice but to come home. Only a foolish, selfish king would make his kingdom of thousands suffer through a war to _possibly_ find a cure for his daughter. A king put his people first and foremost. Unfortunately, that was the burden of every ruler. It was a terrible yet necessary sacrifice I was glad I didn't have to make.

The next scene depicted a solemn Lionel in the council chamber with his councilors, discussing the possible war and ways to negotiate with the king of Pevir.

"We need to make a treaty," one suggested.

"How will a piece of paper pacify him?" asked Lionel, head leaned against his knuckles. "Clearly, the young king feels the need to show his strength by threatening me."

"Who says it has to be on paper?" another asked.

Lionel looked at the one who asked him the question. "What do you mean?"

"Your youngest daughter is of age, Sire. If you offer the princess's hand to him, that will solidify the treaty.

The king looked startled by the suggestion. "I am _not_ giving him my daughter," he said appalled.

"Why, Your Majesty? That would be a peaceful negotiation. You said so yourself that you want peace."

Still appalled, Lionel said, "King Salah practices polygamy. I refuse to make my daughter one of his many wives—one of his harem girls." I saw a subtle shudder. He shook his head. "I can't do that to Addie." Lionel glowered at the councilor who suggested the marriage. "And I will not use her as a bargaining chip to solve my problem, either," he said sternly. "I don't want her to know that our kingdom might go to war. She's already in enough pain." The king gazed out the nearest window. "She's out there, searching for the cure."

One councilor's eyes bulged. "Your Majesty, you let your daughter search for the cure?" he exclaimed.

"I didn't have a choice," the king replied. "She left while I was gone." Lionel stared at the floor through narrowed eyes. "Now I'm going to have two daughters dead," he muttered.

The councilors exchanged glances with each other, unsure what to say to the disheartened sovereign.

"Sire, you don't know that for certain. There's a chance that she could live. She may not succeed on her quest, but she could live."

Lionel sat there in thought and then nodded in agreement. "You're right."

Wanting to resume the marriage plans, the councilor who suggested the alliance said, "As I was saying, many kings have given their daughters to another king for the greater good of the kingdom, Sire."

Lionel shook his head. "I don't care what other kings have done or do. I want Addie to be happy with a husband who will love her, and that will not happen in King Salah's harem," he replied. "My late wife believed in doing that, as do I, therefore I will honor her wish." He paused before adding, "There's a chance that Meryl might..."

The councilors waited for him to continue.

Lionel took a deep breath to compose himself. "...might not inherit the throne, leaving Addie to be my sole heir—if she survives," he said. "I cannot give her to another king before knowing for certain."

Some councilors nodded or agreed audibly. They had no choice but to accept.

The scene changed again to Meryl's first day of the sleep back when she had the Gray Death. Lionel was at her bedside, reading from _Homely Truths_, while Bella was weeping, and Milton was drawing the curtains closed.

"I remember seeing that in the spyglass before Vollys captured me," said Addie.

"Keep watching," Meryl instructed. "There's more you didn't see."

We saw the king ask Bella and Milton to leave the bedchamber. They bowed and curtsied before leaving.

My father-in-law sat on Meryl's bed and looked upon his sleeping daughter with miserable eyes. "Daughter... Meryl..." he started, tears flooding his eyes. "I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry I can't save you." He glanced at the window. "I hope your sister finds the cure soon." The king's tears fell as he gazed at Meryl's closed eyes. Lionel took Meryl's hand and silently wept. "I lost my brother and your mother this way. I can't bear to lose you too, my firstborn." He squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his grip on Meryl's hand. "I love you, Meryl..." Lionel leaned toward Meryl and kissed her forehead tenderly.

I looked at Addie to see her reaction. Blinking rapidly, she watched through watery eyes. Stunned by her father's affectionate gesture, she murmured, "Oh. I was wrong."

Meryl changed the scene again to her final days when she had the fever.

Lionel entered the sickroom and read from _Homely Truths_. He stared down at his feet, spoke a few words to Bella and Milton and then left.

Addie nodded. "I remember seeing that too."

Still devoid of emotion from being in the presence of others, Lionel closed the door behind him. Now that he had left the room, fighting back tears, he staggered to the closest private chamber and entered. He leaned his weight against the closest wall and broke down into a fit of sobs. I had no idea he could even sob that hard. "No," he breathed in between sobs. "She's not coming back," he whispered despairingly to himself, shaking his head. "Now I have two dead children."

It saddened me to know that my father-in-law gave up on Addie, but then I remembered how many loved ones he had lost in his lifetime and understood why he had that attitude. If all my loved ones died prematurely, I'd be just as pessimistic. Over the years, he became detached from his loved ones to protect his heart.

Meryl made the scene dissolve. She faced Addie. "Remember how Father said his army would be ready in a week?" she asked rhetorically. "It was because he had already sent his active duty troops to Bamarre's western border to help eliminate the monsters that were invading Pevir. He was hesitant to beckon his reservist troops from their families in their faraway villages for something that was not a war. He was already dreading the possibility of having to beckon them for an actual war." She paused. "I want you to see this too."

The scene changed to me bowing to the king in his solar. I remembered asking the servants to beg him for a private audience, even though it was after his hearing hours, so I could ask for Addie's hand and to tell him what became of Meryl. The servants told him it was an urgent personal matter that concerned me and his daughters, so he was kind enough to see me late at night. I never realized it at the time, because I disliked his personality, but he was always accommodating to me whenever I needed something.

He asked what I needed.

"Sire, I am here for two reasons," I spoke formally. "I am pleased to announce that the princesses made it to the waterfall, and now the Gray Death is finally eradicated, thanks to Princess Addie's valor. Through her bravery, the Gray Death is no more."

His face looked serene. "That's wonderful news," he said. "So Meryl is cured and is coming home soon?" I heard hope and a dash of happiness in his voice. When I first heard it, I didn't notice, but now that I knew him better, I could detect it.

My face loosened into a frown and I could no longer face him. I hated being the one to tell him. "She lives, but not as a human anymore, Sire. The princess was too close to death, so the fairies gave her the option of death or life as a fairy. She chose the latter. Meryl now resides on Mount Ziriat with the other fairies." I had to tell him Meryl's good news before sorrow overcame him. "But it turns out that _the_ Drualt from the epic poem is also a fairy, and that they are in love." I looked up, thinking about how wonderful they looked together. "She's very happy being a fairy and being in love with Drualt, Your Majesty."

The king nodded approvingly, but I could tell he was still sad. He met my eyes. "What is the other topic you wanted to address?"

I watched my past self shudder. I remembered thinking he would decline, saying she was intended for a king, or a prince, or even a lord. Crossing my right arm across my chest, I knelt to show even more respect. "I wish for Princess Adelina's hand in marriage," my past self blurted in a nervous rush. My cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

Lionel surveyed me for what felt like an eternity. I remembered thinking, say something! Right as I was certain he would say no, he asked, "Do you love her?"

I wet my lips and shook harder, expecting the worst reaction from him. "Yes, Sire. I'm in love with your daughter."

"Does she love you back?" he asked softly.

My cheeks were as red as a tomato. I didn't realize how flushed my cheeks were at the time. I had to refrain from laughing. "We professed our love for each other as we were traveling to the Aisnan Valley."

The king smiled and said, "You may wed my daughter."

My jaw dropped and my eyes widened to the size of saucers. Watching my astonished reaction was hilarious. "Sire?" I blurted incredulously. I wasn't expecting him to accept that easily.

"Yes, Son-in-law?" he asked, smirking at me to prove his point.

My slack jaw fastened into a wide grin and my eyes moistened slightly from happiness. But then I remembered to tell him of the wedding time and place and how the fairies offered to take him. At first he said he would come but then he looked down at his desk and declined, saying, "A queen bee is no gadfly, and a ship in harbor is not at sea." I remembered feeling frustrated by his lack of support for his remaining child. At the time, I thought he just didn't care about his daughter or he was too scared or lazy to leave the castle.

Lionel opened his desk drawer and rummaged through it, searching for something. "I want Addie to have this," he said, pulling a silver chained wedding necklace out of the drawer. He held out the necklace for me to take.

Not knowing what it was for, I took the necklace and waited for an explanation.

"It was my late wife's wedding charm," he explained. It must have been a wedding tradition the wealthy practiced. Bamarrian peasants typically didn't have enough money to afford jewelry to show their marital status.

I observed the aged jeweled box that I was certain Meryl could restore before the ceremony. I had a feeling Addie would feel honored to wear her mother's wedding charm.

Then he pulled out another wedding charm with a gold chain and presented it to me. "Traditionally, the mother of the bride provides her daughter with her charm and the father of the groom provides his son with his charm. Since you do not have a father, I want you to have my wedding charm."

Now I understood that that was his way of accepting me into his family. I felt ashamed of once being disgusted by having to wear his charm. Due to his devastating experiences, I now understood that our notorious cowardly king was actually braver and stronger than we thought. I couldn't say I'd be any different if I went through the things he did, and I doubted others would be, either.

After handing me his old wedding charm, Lionel said he'd give me his daughters' dowries once we returned from our honeymoon. I tried to decline, saying I didn't need a dowry since I'd be marrying into royalty, but he insisted, due to tradition. I asked if I could give small portions to the citizens who were faced with natural disasters or monster depredations, and he approved, saying that the money would be mine to use however I saw fit. The citizens needed the money more than I did.

The bubble showed the calendar on his desk. The next day on the calendar was marked, "Monster prevention plan with ambassador at nine o'clock." Now I understood. He didn't want me to know the true reason why he couldn't go. If Addie knew Bamarre was under the threat of war, it would have ruined our wedding day and honeymoon, and it would have caused even more stress when she was pregnant. Also, a king couldn't make a last minute cancellation with an ambassador for a spur of the moment wedding. If we had been betrothed for months, he could have scheduled around the wedding.

Then tears fell on the calendar.

"He mourned for me in private, Addie," Meryl informed. "Losing me greatly affected him, but he kept his sorrow hidden, just like how he bears everything else."

The bubble finally shrank into liquid and fell back into Meryl's cup.

Shaking her head sympathetically, Addie whimpered, "I never knew..." She turned to me with shame in her red, glassy eyes. "It all makes sense now," she said in realization. "It all makes sense now," she repeated emphatically. Addie looked at Meryl. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"In all honesty, you aren't supposed to know, but since you said those things, I felt it was necessary to show you the truth," Meryl replied. She tilted her head and smirked. "Besides, I wanted my brief visits to be joyous by sharing my adventures and hearing the latest news concerning my godchildren," she said. "Who wants to waste precious family time talking about depressing matters?"

That made sense.

Addie stood abruptly and threaded between the chairs to the exit. "I must go to him."

I quickly removed my sons from my lap and grabbed her arm. "Addie, don't," I said.

She faced me. "Why?"

I didn't want to be blunt with her, but she needed to know how I really felt. "I don't think he will be able to face you after what you said…" I looked at everything but her. "You spoke harsh words," I said, finally meeting her eyes. "Being a father, I would want to be left alone if one of our kids said those things to me."

Addie relented, knowing I had a point. Shaken by the realization of her father's traumatic past and the truth about his actions, she dismissed everyone, and in doing so, she discovered an envelope on the floor outside the chamber, sealed with the king's crest. We read the letter together.

_Dear Addie,_

_I have never been good with words, at least not spoken words. I hope this letter will suffice with what I have to say._

_While your words may have stung, they were true. I have failed you as a father. I do not ask for your forgiveness; I don't deserve it, just like I don't deserve you and I didn't deserve Meryl. I have failed my two daughters. All I can do is offer an apology and a chance to reconcile, but if you do not wish to do so, I understand. I'm doing this for you, therefore it is your decision alone._

_Despite my actions and my lack of words, I love you and I loved Meryl as well. I know you don't see it, but I do love you, and I have failed to show it these past thirty years. Shame on me. From now on I will do my best to show __my love for you._

_Love,_

_Father_

I couldn't help but to feel more respect for Lionel, and I was certain Addie felt the same way. What he did took courage, perhaps the most he'd shown in a long time. I was proud of my fearful father-in-law.

Addie held the letter to her chest and raced out of the tearoom in search of her father.

I drifted behind. How was this interaction going to play out? I had to know, even though it wasn't my business. I wanted to see my wife reconcile with her estranged father. This would be a major event in our marriage.

Eventually Addie found Lionel in his study, reading _Homely Truths_ at his desk. He stood, hands behind his back and waited for her to speak or move.

Addie held up the letter in her shaking, clutched hand and cried again. I was surprised she had tears left to shed after all the crying she did while watching the past. Addie turned to me and asked, "Will you please give us a moment?"

"He can stay if he wants," said Lionel. He gave a half smile. "I've always liked his company."

Hearing that made me smile. Thank you, Lionel, for those kind words and for allowing me to stay. I wanted to witness this so badly my flame danced.

They were silent for what felt like hours. I was beginning to wonder if they would ever speak. The anticipation was killing me!

Addie was the one to break the awkward silence. "I'm sure you know why I'm here, Father." Her voice was high-pitched and brittle. It had been a long time since I had heard her speak in that tone.

Lionel blinked rapidly and gulped. He was nervous too. I didn't blame him; I would be nervous as well. I had to admit, it was amusing, watching them unknowingly use their identical nervous mannerisms toward each other. The nervous king approached his nervous daughter. Standing in front of her, he opened his arms and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry..." he whispered.

Addie broke down again as she held him tightly, relishing the goodness of being in her father's arms. "Meryl showed me your terrible past, and she showed me how you did everything you could to try to save her," she said shakily. "I'm sorry for the hurtful things I said."

"No," he said, pulling away. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "I needed to hear those things," he admitted. "They may have been unpleasant, but they were necessary."

"I..." Addie started, unsure of herself. "I want us to have a relationship," she requested. "I've always wanted to be closer to you, but I knew... it wouldn't happen."

Tears were forming in Lionel's eyes. "It shall be done, starting today," he said, finishing with a nod. "But first I must tell you something I should have said long ago."

Addie waited.

"Words cannot express how proud of you I am. You found courage to save your sister—something I failed to do, you eradicated the Gray Death, you do a fabulous job managing the military, and you are a wonderful mother to your children. You have always been a dutiful and respectful daughter, and I take pride in being your father, though, I may not deserve it." Then he looked at me and said, "Both of you are wonderful parents. I am proud you are my son-in-law and the father of my grandchildren. I am glad you are a part of my family."

Addie was too excited to speak. She smiled broadly.

"Thank you," I murmured, moved by his compliment. I hoped he would become more vocal with his affection. So far, it was a good start.

Lionel gestured at his desk. He moved a chair in front of his desk and motioned for Addie to sit.

Addie happily obliged and watched as he sat behind his desk.

I was too overjoyed to move or speak. I was happy for my wife for finally reconciling with her father. Now if only I could do the same with my daughter… I hoped it wouldn't take as long as it took them.

A guard rushed up to me from the corridor, panting. He managed to bow. "Prince Rhys, I have news about Princess Meryl."

I stepped into the corridor with him. "What is it?"

"She's missing," he replied. "She's nowhere to be found."

My flame flickered. My children knew to ask one of us for permission before leaving the castle grounds. I was furious, but not surprised. I knew someday she would do that. I nodded at the guard and thanked him. He left.

Not wanting to disturb Addie, I decided to handle the issue alone. I would discipline Meryl when she returned.


	13. Chapter 13: The Human Sorcerer

**Chapter 13: The Human Sorcerer**

I was able to let Addie know what the guard told me about Meryl after she spent time with her father. Addie rolled her eyes and huffed at the news. She too was frustrated by Meryl's waywardness. "Now I'm starting to wish Meryl had given Merry the gift of obedience," she said venomously.

We decided to wait for our daughter in her chamber. No matter how much I urged her to sleep, Addie refused to retire to her bedchamber until Meryl returned. I planned on studying my magic in her chamber because I didn't have to stay in my own quarters for that. Surely with both of us in there, Meryl would respond better than if it were just me interrogating her. I hoped she would show up before the summons. During my last visit, I told Orne I'd arrive early, but I didn't want to leave my family earlier than necessary.

Meryl finally returned late at night. Our daughter lumbered into her dark bedchamber. Since we were sitting on the other side of the wall, where her door was, she didn't see us until she shut the door.

Quickly, I lit all the candles in the dim room so we could see her better.

"Where were you?" Addie asked irritably. "You have been missing for hours."

Now that we could see her, the ends of her long, sand-covered ponytail were singed and she reeked of smoke so much that my throat almost burned. Her clothes were tattered, revealing skin that was riddled with cuts and already blistering burns. Holding a sack over her shoulder, she stared at us stupidly, not expecting to see us in her chamber. Storm was also buckled to her waist. I had a bad feeling about this…

Addie didn't give her a chance to answer her first question before asking another. "What's in the sack?"

Meryl avoided eye contact. "Just some things I needed for—"

"What's in the sack?" Addie repeated angrily. "I won't ask you again."

Meryl squirmed. Only Addie knew how to do that to Meryl. I wished I could. She dropped the sack.

Addie stomped over to Meryl and dug through the sack, pulling out everything she found: the seven-league boots, a recent map of the western desert with the dragons' names, and the spyglass. Glaring sourly at Meryl, Addie asked, "Why did you need these, Meryl? What were you doing?" Addie must have felt something else because she continued digging. She held up a red dragon scale with fresh blood on one end. "I know this didn't come from the citadel." Waiting for an answer, Addie glowered at Meryl. "_What_ were you doing?"

Meryl averted her guilty eyes.

"Answer me!" barked Addie.

"If you already know, then why ask me?" Meryl asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Because I want to hear it from your lips," Addie snapped. "What were you doing?"

"I killed Kih," she finally replied, trying to mask her shame by acting nonchalant.

"You did _what_?" we asked incredulously in unison. I couldn't believe it! Our child went to the desert just so she could kill a dragon for sport!

"I killed Kih," she reiterated stoically. I didn't like her nonchalant attitude. Going out and killing a dragon who had done her no harm was barbaric. We had taught her better than that.

"Why?" asked Addie, disgusted.

Meryl was quiet as she tried thinking of a worthy response. There wasn't one—not for what she did. "Of all people, why are you mad?" she spat. "You killed Vollys, so why are you making a big deal about me killing Kih?"

Addie leaned forward. "I killed Vollys because she stood in my way of saving my sister. I didn't slay her for no reason. Now Jafe will seek revenge."

"You don't know that," Meryl retorted. "Besides, that's what they do," Meryl countered, "so why is it such a bad thing if I did it to one of them first? You should be proud I rid the land of that filthy—"

"So you're comparing your morals to a dragon's?" Addie shouted, hands on hips. "Dragons are clannish. Vollys told me, and I have told you. Why else do you think Yune battled Drualt? It was revenge," she said. "Now since Jafe is the last of his kind, he will seek vengeance." It was as though Addie's gray eyes flashed red like a dragon's. Our children have angered and driven us insane many times, but this was by far the worst offense we had ever dealt with from one of them. Clenching her fists, Addie hissed, "I am ashamed of you, Meryl. You have disgraced your mother and your kingdom. I am relieved the crown will not be yours. You are unworthy of it."

Meryl's eyes watered. Her idol voiced her disapproval of her actions. Under different circumstances, Meryl's crestfallen face would have saddened me too.

"You shall not leave the castle for any reason until I say otherwise. Do I make myself clear?" she snarled.

Meryl lowered her head in submission, accepting her punishment.

I was glad I was not on the receiving end of Addie's wrath. Being pregnant and lacking sleep made her frightening. Addie took Storm from Meryl and faced me. "We're done here," she spoke harshly.

I knew she wasn't mad at me, therefore I wasn't offended by her tone. I looked at our daughter, devoid of emotion. I was too flabbergasted to say anything. I couldn't believe our child was a cold-blooded murderer at the age of fourteen. I shook my head subtly and then I followed Addie out.

Addie spun around one more time and added, "And if I hear you have disrespected your father or mine in any way during your confinement, so help me, I will banish you! Do you understand me?"

Head hanging, Meryl nodded. My broken daughter threw herself onto her bed and cried.

Addie slammed the door and had me accompany her to the king's chamber, where we would inform Lionel of what had transpired, but before knocking on his door, she gave Storm to me, saying I should keep it. Looks like I would get to keep it after all.

When we told Lionel what had happened, I saw worry in his eyes. He told Addie, the commander of his army, to prepare for battle. With Addie's quick pace, the troops would be ready soon.

Then I noticed the time and realized I didn't have long before the summons. I begrudgingly said my goodbyes to Addie before leaving the castle. I hated leaving my wife at such an inconvenient time. If I had to choose, I would stay and endure my familial issues no matter how big rather than go to my peoples' beautiful city that felt like a prison.

The citadel was very different than any human city. Our city-state was enclosed around a one hundred foot tall, star-shaped bastion—taller than any human wall in Bamarre or its neighboring kingdoms. Our numbers were sparse, therefore we kept our grand city enclosed for our protection. Millennia ago the citadel did not have its great wall, but without it, we were attacked by a human king, who fought bravely against our evil queen, Myra. Personally, I didn't blame the Bamarrian king for attacking, because Queen Myra oppressed the other humanoid races and made her subject sorcerers killers. Eventually, our elders fought the wicked queen and rebuilt our society into a democracy so that no single being would have absolute power again.

While future human attacks were understandable and inevitable, we wanted to prevent them by becoming geographically impossible for humans to reach. Our elders banded together to raise the earth on which the structures were built upon into a steep, rocky hill. To make it even more secure, the great bastion was built around the city. If by any chance a human managed to climb the wall, they would fall to their doom because the other side of the bastion was a steep drop, lined with spikes.

Believing it was safer, the High Council thought to keep all sorcerers in, from birth to death. That idea didn't work. The curious apprentices would sneak out and get themselves in trouble with our High Council or with paranoid humans. But then the High Council realized that by making the outside world forbidden, it only made the youths want it more. Millennia later, when Queen Myra's reign was merely history, the High Council decided to allow apprentices to live out in the world until they turned two hundred. Bamarre was the first human kingdom to accept the High Council's offer to send an apprentice to work for the king for five years as part of their training. The human king benefited by having a personal assistant, who could do things his human subjects could not and the apprentice would benefit from having the practice and money.

The kings were generous and paid the apprentices for their services. While employed by Lionel, I made more than any commoner in Bamarre, even more than physicians. Lionel was also kind enough to have clothes tailored to fit me perfectly, since the clothes I previously owned were not suitable for court. For the first time in my life I had the luxury to choose jewel tones—my favorite type of colors. The tailors customized an assortment of doublets to suit my tastes. Lionel may have been aloof, but he was benevolent to me, and to other sorcerer apprentices. I never understood why that was; now I did.

By the time a sorcerer turns two hundred their fascination with humans subsides. The journeyman becomes fully devoted to their studies of becoming a master sorcerer, the goal of every sorcerer. At age two hundred, or when they have reached "adulthood," they no longer needed a teacher to help them progress. The books and scrolls alone sufficed in their advanced training. I couldn't wait to be at that level.

To keep our numbers from dwindling, our lofty pillared buildings were made of marble so that lightning could strike the rooftops and create new sorcerers. The citadel's tallest point was a statue of a phoenix, a sacred firebird the sorcerers greatly revered. No living sorcerer had ever seen one. We were more likely to see a fairy than a phoenix. The sacred bird was to us what fairies were to humans, however, the sacred bird had fallen out of human lore. Phoenixes lived among us millennia ago and were known for lending sorcerers their awesome powers in times of need. But that form of magic was long forgotten. It was said that Queen Myra was the last to use a phoenix's power, but in doing so, she burned into a pile of ashes, and any texts about the dangerous magic were destroyed.

Apprentices were skeptical about the legendary power and even of the existence of phoenixes. Unlike fairies, phoenixes did not have a home. In fact, we had no clue where they resided. Some masters say they continuously fly over the vast ocean, above the many floating kingdoms. I believed in phoenixes and their ability to resurrect from their own ashes every five hundred years. Phoenixes had the power to grant resurrection and rejuvenation, something fairies could not. If a mortal was near death, fairies could only turn the victim into another fairy, not restore them to what they once were. As I was resting in bed, healing on Mount Ziriat, I remembered thinking it odd how the fairies were supernatural beings that could see miles away and move stars in the blink of an eye but could not replenish my energy or rejuvenate the dying Princess Meryl. While a phoenix could not turn another being into a phoenix, it could resurrect someone who had just died or had been dead for centuries, and it could instantly take life away. Some say phoenixes were so powerful they could battle a fairy, though it would result in a draw. But, regardless if we believed in their existence or not, we still had to study phoenixes and their history for our exam.

I found it fascinating how, during the exam, if a male makes lightning strike marble, the newborn sorcerer will be male and same with females. The examining sorcerer can choose if they want to mentor the newborn they brought into the world or if they wanted another who was born outside the citadel. Most sorcerers wanted to mentor the product of their accomplishment. Typically, the sorcerers born from conjured lightning preferred being cooped up in the citadel, whereas the ones born outside were more fascinated with the world beyond the walled city. I was one of them.

I was born in a humble village in Bamarre. There was a peasant couple who either miscarried or had sickness claim their infants. They wanted to have a child live to adulthood so desperately they saved all their money to buy a slab of marble to birth a sorcerer they could raise without fear of it dying in the womb or being a victim of sickness. I was that sorcerer. They named me, clothed me, and gave me a loving home. I was perfect for them for the reasons listed but also because they didn't have to feed me and I could help around the farm in ways they couldn't. They saw me as their son and I saw them as my parents. It wasn't until years later when I realized we were different species after asking why nobody in the village could fly. I lived with them for decades until they died of the Gray Death, and then I took up permanent residency at the citadel. I am forever grateful to my mother, Edith, for teaching me manners and to my father, Rhys (my namesake), for teaching me chivalry. They were the kindest, gentlest, most loving beings I knew. Even though they were destitute, they still found a way to help those in need and to bring joy to everyone, something I learned from them. They showed me unconditional love and taught me to love others by putting their needs first.

Seeing how my parents functioned as a married couple showed me how marriage awakened inner strength that would not normally be used by oneself. Through them, I learned that marriage didn't tie a person down; it's empowering. My parents brought out the best in each other and accomplished great things by working as a unit. They inspired each other, as Addie inspired me. Thanks to their example, I wanted to find a lovely human bride someday to love and raise a family together, since sorcerers never married each other (not that I wanted to marry one). Much to my dismay at the time, I didn't find the right human during my first few years of life. All the girls I fancied were either taken or weren't interested in courting a sorcerer. Some rejected me coldly, some laughed at me, while others even labeled me as a friend. I shed many a tear when I saw those girls marry another shortly after I asked to court them. Thank the stars for unanswered prayers!

The pain of rejection over the years was worth marrying Addie in the end. Facing rejection made me cherish Addie more. Though, I would have loved those girls from my past as deeply as I loved Addie. Oh, well. Their loss. Addie was perfect for me—much better than what those girls would have been. She brought out the best in me and appreciated everything I did. I couldn't imagine a life without her.

Years after I was born, my human parents had a miracle baby that grew beyond infancy—my little sister and first true friend, Rose. My parents reassured me that I was still their firstborn and always would be. I never felt jealous of Rose for being the blood child because our parents loved us equally. I loved my sister so much. I did anything for her happiness and well-being. When she was a baby, I was her caretaker at night to give my parents a break, which was why I knew how to care for my own offspring. The Gray Death claimed her at age twelve while I was at the citadel for a long ceremony (apprentices under the age of fifty had several lengthy ceremonies). But I would have searched for a cure if I wasn't unwillingly drawn to the citadel. Every time I attended a ceremony, I pinned a red rosebud on my lapel in her honor, and I also named my daughter a variation of Rose's name.

I mourned her death for years. Some humans died so young… and I hated it. I was thrilled when Queen Seema gave Addie the herb that would make her immune to diseases because I didn't want to see another one of my precious humans die from sickness. However, before Addie was given the herb, I fully intended on nursing Addie during the times she was sick, just like I did for Rose.

That was why I cried when I found out Meryl had contracted the Gray Death, because I remembered the pain of losing a sister, and I felt grief for my new friend. I loathed the Gray Death as much as the humans did—possibly even more, because it claimed my family, leaving me alone in the world for many decades.

When I met the twelve-year-old Addie, she reminded me of my sister. Toward strangers, Rose was timid and shy, but to me and our parents, she was outspoken, like Addie's sister. It almost felt like Rose came back from the grave in the form of two princesses. I rarely saw Addie because Lionel kept sending me to distant regions and my sorcerer training intensified. The few times I did see her, she seemed somewhat frightened by me. At the time, I took it as a sign that she was scared of me, like so many other humans. I didn't realize it was because she was infatuated with me, so I kept my distance out of respect for her. Causing the king's daughter distress was the last thing I wanted. If the king we served gave us a bad report to the masters, they would automatically label us an incompetent. It was best not to take a risk.

During the first four years I lived at the castle, I watched the girls from afar, observing their interests, what made them happy. I found it a peculiar coincidence how Meryl liked to fence and wanted to find the cure to the Gray Death, just like Rose did, and how Addie liked to embroider, just like my mother did (when we could afford the fabric). And during those four years, Addie aged into a beautiful young woman, leaving my initial view of her a distant memory. I noticed she was becoming more comfortable around me the few times I stopped to talk to her. The unbearable decades of loneliness was finally wearing away at me. I needed more human interaction that wasn't in the form of a service. The princesses seemed like they would make wonderful friends, as they were polite, so I decided to give them gifts to bring them joy and to show them I was interested in becoming their friend.

I became infatuated with the gorgeous Princess Addie when she touched my face after I gave her the blue cloth and needle, and then my feelings blossomed into love the moment she kissed my cheek—my first kiss from someone outside my family. At that moment, I knew I wanted—no—_had_ to marry her. I knew she would make a respectful, loving wife and nurturing mother to our children by the way she interacted with me. I was right. Even though she was a princess and I was a commoner, she was never condescending toward me and never acted superior. She listened to any advice I gave her from my years of knowledge and wisdom I had accumulated in my lifetime. Addie never doubted my advice simply on the basis of rank, which meant the world to me. The sheltered sixteen-year-old princess may have been naive about lots of things, but she had the wisdom to listen to those who had more knowledge and life experience—a good quality in an heir apparent. I couldn't ask for a better wife. I never thought that the twelve-year-old princess I met years ago would someday wed me and bear my children.

Living with humans made me fond of them. I connected better with humans (the ones that gave me a chance) than I did with sorcerers. Sorcerers were not... human, was the best way I could describe it. To me, sorcerers merely existed, not lived—unlike humans. Humans had diverse personalities and dressed depending on their temperament. Sorcerers typically wore drab, earth-tone colors and typically lacked personality. Only a few of us were lively, and we were seen as outcasts. Throughout my life, I had been an outsider no matter where I went. I was a part of two worlds, wholly belonging to none. The only place I truly belonged was at the castle with my family.

Before arriving at the citadel, if not summoned, I would stop at the lake I showed Addie on her first quest to place roses on my sister's and parents' graves. It was my way of honoring them and to apologize for not being able to save them. I still felt responsible for their deaths. When my parents had the Gray Death, they begged me not to search for a cure. They were elderly and needed someone to care for them while they were ill, and they wanted me close during their last days. I still carried the weight of guilt on my shoulders no matter how much Addie tried convincing me otherwise.

The full moon's glow helped me see where I was landing. I lighted on a hillside overlooking the lake. The rippling lake reflected the silver moon and shimmering stars, and a line of cherry trees marched up the hill. I had buried my family members under three of the trees ages ago. I carefully gathered three bouquets of roses, and sat two of them at the bottom of my parents' trees. Then I stood before Rose's tree and got down on my knees, closed my eyes, and placed the last bouquet down, remembering my first family...

**. . .**

I entered our quaint cabin, holding a sack of wondrous things I found at the citadel. I tried my hardest to conceal a grin, but to no avail. I couldn't wait to see their excited faces. I saw Ma preparing dinner at our hearth that was located on the opposite side of the main door.

She turned around to see who entered. "Son, you're home," exclaimed my mother, who wore a stained apron over her plain dress. She stopped stirring the broth in the cauldron to embrace me.

I hugged my narrow-boned mother. "Hello, Ma." I scanned our tiny cabin for my father. "Where's Pa?"

"He left a few days ago to sell the lumber we gathered the other day," Ma replied. "Actually, he should be here any moment." Ma laughed as she made her way back over to the broth, her straight brown tresses swishing with each step. "Remember the dragon's scale you gave us? I accidentally dropped it in the cauldron and discovered it gives the broth a spicy, bitter flavor. Now we don't have to buy as many spices." Ma held up a finger in remembrance. "Another thing," she started, "after I pulled the scale out of the broth, I placed it on the hearth and noticed it kept our cabin warm and it kept the mice and rats away." She frowned and stirred the broth. "I can't wait till you learn how to keep spiders away, though. I'm afraid of those nasty things."

I chuckled. "Ugly little beasts, aren't they?"

My mother shuddered and agreed.

I smiled. "It won't be long until I learn how to keep them away," I said triumphantly, thinking about the new spell book Orne had recently assigned me.

She turned around, holding a broth-filled ladle inches above her cupped hand. "Come here, Son. Try the broth," she instructed.

I held out my hands in protest. "No, Ma. I don't want to eat the family's food."

"You are a part of this family as much as I am, now come here and try the broth," Ma ordered in mock irritation.

I maneuvered around the table and took a sip of the steaming broth. She was right; it was spicy and bitter.

Ma glanced at my sack. "What's in the sack?"

"Just some things I found at the—"

The door swung open, revealing my exhausted father, wearing his travel attire. My father and I bore a coincidental resemblance. He was tall with black, wavy hair (like a sorcerer) and blue-eyed. He had a flat face but had hooded eyes, unlike mine. I was happy that we looked similar; it made me feel as if I was really his. In fact, I looked more like him than Rose. I firmly believed I looked like him because he handled the slab of marble that birthed me, though, no one could prove that that was really what caused me to look like him. It could have been purely coincidental.

Pa seemed unhappy as he hung his worn hat and cloak on the wooden coat rack.

"Rhys, my love, you're home," Ma said to Pa as she hurried to kiss him. They met halfway and kissed. Ma noticed his sad expression and cupped his face. "What's wrong, Husband?"

He held her wrists gently and replied, "The lumber we gathered was hardly worth anything. We don't have enough to afford food to last a week."

Then I remembered the things I brought from the citadel. "Pa," I called.

"Wait, Son. I'm not done talking to your mother," he said softly. He paused and sighed. "I hate being a woodcutter. We were better off as farmers. We never worried about our next meal, like we do now." Pa shook his head in frustration. "I can't believe Lord Arthur turned a blind eye toward our farm burning. We had enough evidence to know who did it," he growled, making a fist.

"I know," she murmured. "He'll never seek justice for us. Lord Arthur doesn't approve of our family, like everyone else in the village." Ma shook her head subtly. "It doesn't matter anymore, Husband. We moved away from the village so we can raise our children in peace."

In the past, I suggested taking up permanent residency at the citadel so they didn't face discrimination because of me, but they insisted I stayed with them, because they believed in family togetherness.

"But what about our food situation?" he asked.

"I don't know," Ma said. "We'll figure—"

I reached into the sack, held up a tablecloth, and said, "Good tablecloth, please set thyself."

The tablecloth flew out of my hand and unfolded itself. Many plates full of food appeared, hot and ready to be consumed. Judging by the length of the tablecloth, the invisible table dwarfed our shabby wooden table and the feast it provided was the most food I had ever seen. I had only commanded it to set itself once at the citadel to see its magic and the things I tried were delicious.

As soon as the tablecloth stopped setting itself, my dark auburn-haired sister sauntered into the cabin. Her blue eyes widened and her freckled face lit at the sight of the feast. "Wow!" she exclaimed, running toward the table to get a better look.

"Now you don't have to worry about going hungry again," I said happily, wearing a broad grin.

Rose rushed around the table to hug me tightly. "Brother, you're amazing!"

I chuckled. "I didn't do this," I explained. "It's a magical tablecloth I found at the citadel."

"Is it safe to eat?" asked Pa, studying the contents carefully.

"Try it. Everything is delicious," I told him, confident that everything was scrumptious.

My parents sat down and began eating. Pa ate savagely while Ma ate properly. Ma noticed how much and how quickly Pa was eating, and said, "For fairy's sake, Rhys, slow down. You'll make yourself sick for a week!"

I laughed.

Ma asked Rose if she wanted to eat, but Rose declined, saying she wasn't hungry. Rose collected a wooden sword from a corner in the cabin and rushed outside, pulling me along.

I followed her to the lake, where we usually spent our free time together. The lake had very few plants nearby and very few animals, but that would change in the future; my family and I planted a row of cherry trees on the hillside not too long ago.

I picked up a few flat rocks and began skipping them across the lake's surface. After years of practice, I became skilled at skipping rocks, but I also used them to practice keeping objects afloat. I came to the lake to practice my sorcery and often times Rose would watch and cheer me on.

Rose went over to a rosebush and began swatting and parrying. "Take that, you dastardly roses! Take that!"

Turning around, I laughed. "What did those poor roses ever do to you?"

She stopped fencing with the roses and grinned at me. "But I have to fence with them. Do you know why?"

I asked why.

"Because they fence better than you do," she sneered playfully.

Before she could react, I bounded forward and restrained my screaming sister. I made her recline in my arms and flew to the edge of the lake. "Let's see if you skip better than my rocks," I said, pretending to throw her.

She screamed and wound her arms around my neck.

Laughing, I put her down.

Settling down, Rose looked up at me and frowned. "It's still there," she murmured sadly, gently grazing her fingertips under my right eye. She was referring to my healing black eye a villager gave me not too long ago right before our farm burned down. I said hello to a fair maiden as she walked by, but her older brother didn't take lightly to a sorcerer—a magical monster—scaring his sister. From seemingly out of nowhere, he immediately punched my face and then threatened to kill me if I spoke to his sister again. "Why didn't you fight back?"

Disappointed she asked such a thing, I replied, "Retaliation would only prove them right. The villagers think me a monster. That's why Pa taught me to always bow—to show respect—something a monster does not and cannot do."

"Well," Rose started, brandishing her play sword, "when we find the cure to the Gray Death, the humans will respect you. I'll make them." She thrust her sword to the sky. "Victory for Bamarre! Victory for us—Rhys and Rose! Brother and sister, and best friends forever!"

I thought I saw a tremor run through her, and then she lost her balance and dropped her sword.

That was my first close encounter with the Gray Death, the one that scarred me forever.

**. . .**

Opening my eyes, I snapped a red bud from the bouquet and pinned it to my lapel before rising into the air. I flew southwest, toward the Bamarrian Plains that surrounded the sorcerers' mystical city.


	14. Chapter 14: The Citadel

**Chapter 14: The Citadel**

As I flew over the bastion, I stared at my destination: a tall and wide coliseum with rows of seats wrapping around the arena. The coliseum was where the practical exams took place, depending on the day or night. In between exams, sorcerers would practice their magic in the arena. Every year the sorcerers would hold a competition in the coliseum to make a spectacle of their abilities in hopes of impressing others into one day considering them to serve on our councils. Sorcerers confused strength with arrogance. One could be strong without being conceited. I didn't feel the need to show off my magic to prove myself to other sorcerers, much to Orne's annoyance; I was confident and satisfied with my abilities. Even if I did display my abilities, I'd be criticized and undermined because hardly anyone liked me and were jealous that someone like me was one of two top youngster apprentices. Orne wanted me to compete to show everyone how great of a teacher he was so that the elders would take a note of it for when he became eligible to serve. I didn't appreciate how he wanted to exploit me in order to advance his cause, but out of all the older sorcerers, he treated me the nicest. Despite our frequent disagreements about differing views, I could tell he deeply cared for me more so than most teachers did for their apprentices.

I landed gracefully beside Casper, one of the few friendly acquaintances of mine. The kind apprentice was twenty years my junior and was also Lionel's current sorcerer apprentice. It drove me insane when the masters would pick someone who bullied me at the citadel, and then that apprentice would be polite to me and my family at the castle to receive a good report. There was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't say anything to my father-in-law because the bullying took place at the citadel, and the masters didn't care if my peers bullied me because they felt I deserved it by flouting sorcerer tradition.

I leaned over discreetly and whispered hello. There was a no talking rule in the coliseum. I didn't understand why, but I figured it was simply for the masters to be in control.

He responded by asking how I was and how my family fared. Casper had been in the citadel for the past few days for reasons I didn't know.

I replied but didn't mention what Meryl had done.

From seemingly out of nowhere, I heard an aged female voice bark, "Youngster Rhys, no talking in the coliseum."

Where was she? I surveyed the area to see who the voice belonged to. Everyone around me was an apprentice. Perhaps I was hearing things. I leaned over again and continued whispering to Casper, inquiring about his service to my father-in-law.

"Youngster Rhys!" another mistress shouted.

Mistress Theresa and Mistress Ambrosia landed in front of me, hands on hips, and glowered at me with angry eyes. Mistress Ambrosia was unusually tall for a sorceress, standing nearly as tall as me and was the most verbally abusive out of all the masters, and Mistress Theresa was unusually short and plump for our kind.

Where did they come from? I looked all over and did not see them a while ago. How could they see me while I couldn't see them?

"We saw you talking through the coliseum wall," Mistress Theresa replied to my thoughts. I loathed whenever they did that. Thoughts should be private, but the masters did not see it that way. They believed their position entitled them to control others in every aspect. "You know the rule."

Then Mistress Ambrosia narrowed her eyes mockingly. She hated me most because I sought to put an end to being the target of her volatile temper and her cruel remarks long ago through having a calm, peaceful discussion in private, but she turned it around and made herself into the victim—never mind how I endured her habitual abuse every single time I saw her. While telling the story to her best friend, Mistress Theresa, she exaggerated my part of the story and watered down what she did. Mistress Theresa of course favored Mistress Ambrosia over me and decided to treat me worse to avenge her friend's frail ego. The whole ordeal was tragic because out of all the masters, Mistress Theresa was the kindest to me (which wasn't saying much), even after I got married, until Mistress Ambrosia ruined everything with her twisted version of our confrontation. "Oh, I almost forgot. You're a human cavorter. I can't expect someone who frolics with simple creatures to grasp such a simple concept."

Calling a sorcerer a "human cavorter" was supposed to be an insult. I didn't find it offensive, but most sorcerers did. I was more offended by her indirectly calling me stupid.

"Get out," Mistress Ambrosia ordered, pointing to the side.

I had to literally bite my tongue or else I'd have many regrets. I glared at her for a brief moment and then drifted away.

Before I was out of earshot, she spat, "I will notify your teacher at once."

I growled to myself as I flew away from the coliseum. Fine, I thought. I decided to study and change clothes in my dormitory and wait until I heard the summons for the apprentice ceremony. Wearing white-colored shirts under our dark blue cloaks, we sang or chanted to the stars in Sorcerian, our archaic language, to absorb their powers, although, apprentices did not understand what they were chanting. Journeymen learned Sorcerian so they could read their more complex magic books and scrolls. Apprentice reading materials were written in the local human language. Some journeymen and all council members spoke Sorcerian fluently and used it in the council chamber or with other sorcerers who understood the language to show status. It was considered our secret, sophisticated language.

Sometimes I wished I were not drawn to the summons. It made me feel like a mindless sheep, mindlessly following a shepherd. I supposed complaining about something I could not change did me no favors. No being—human, sorcerer, or fairy—was without its drawbacks.

My mind went blank as my eyes were fixed on the ceremony chamber. If I were restrained, I would still fly in the direction of the chamber. The only way for a sorcerer to not be drawn would be to leave Bamarre's borders or to receive a dismissal from a teacher or master. However, asking for a dismissal was greatly frowned upon.

I regained my thoughts once I landed inside the chamber. I was pleased to see my two best sorcerer friends, Henry and Matilda, land beside me. Most of my sorcerer friends were younger than me except Henry, who was my only friend from the advanced youngster class. Admittedly, we had a friendly rivalry, as we were the top two students.

Since I didn't want to get kicked out of another event, I kept quiet but nodded to acknowledge them.

Grand Master William would be leading the hymns. Grand Masters were the Arch Master's right hand sorcerers and were the most domineering (second to the Arch Master). Our hymns were lengthy yet beautiful. The masters told us to sing with our best singing voices to please the deceased sorcerers. If we sounded horrible or made a mistake, we would be expelled for "dishonoring the dead." Luckily, I had never endured the shame of being expelled.

My friends and I had decent voices, though, Matilda sounded the best. With her aerial soprano voice, she could effortlessly sing all the high passages. She enjoyed singing in general, not just during the ceremonies, much to her teacher's and the masters' annoyance. Singing outside of ceremonies made her unique, because only way a sorcerer was allowed to stand out was with their magic. Henry and I didn't mind her singing while we visited with each other in the garden—we even stood watch while she sang so she wouldn't get caught. Someday I wanted Matilda to meet my eldest son. I had a feeling they would become fast friends, as they shared the same passion for singing.

Henry was a high tenor and I was a bass. Occasionally, we good-naturedly made fun of each other's contrasting voices. I called him "Mouse" and he called me "Bullfrog." He was just jealous of my ability to execute and project low notes that most of our other basses could not. I took pride in being able to sing the lowest out of all the apprentices.

After telling us what hymns we would be singing, Grand Master William sang his opening solo. As he sang, the stars above shone uncommonly bright. Once we joined in, we upturned our palms as we gazed at the stars. I had sung that particular hymn numerous times over the decades, which made my thoughts unintentionally wander to Meryl. What would become of Meryl's actions? Dragons disliked each other. Maybe Jafe would be happy that he had less competition for food. But dragons are also clannish. Perhaps he would never find out; dragons did avoid each other, as they disliked their own kind. But why did she have to go out and kill a dragon? I suddenly remembered that stupid squire goading her on—if only he had kept his mouth shut!

While I fretted over Meryl, I accidentally sang boldly during a measure of silence. Everyone heard. My flame stopped burning for a split second and I felt the heat of embarrassment throughout my entire body. How did I come in too early? Was I really that distracted?

Grand Master William waved his hands to end the hymn. He chewed his curled under tongue repetitively and angrily scratched the back of his head, making himself look like a monkey. It was his angry gesture we all knew too well but wouldn't dare laugh at no matter how tempting. "You idiot! Pull your head out of your rear and pay attention!" he roared at me. He chewed his tongue some more. "Youngster Rhys, leave!"

I knew protesting was useless. I did as he commanded.

As I was flying upward, Grand Master William added, "I will tell Teacher Orne what you did immediately."

I groaned louder than when I was kicked out of the coliseum. That was why I hated coming to the citadel; I was always scolded over the silliest things. I was surprised Orne hadn't requested to trade apprentices with another teacher. He was constantly lecturing me about my misconducts. It felt odd to have political power and to discipline my offspring at home and then be treated like an unwanted child at the citadel.

I went back to my dormitory to study more to kill time.

The advanced youngsters were scheduled to have a lecture in the same chamber at dawn. Lectures were boring, as the High Council seemed to favor the monotonous masters to lecture us. If they wanted us to learn faster and retain the information, they should get someone fun and exciting to teach. But I was probably the only one who thought so.

Once it was time, I flew back to the circular chamber and hovered beside Henry. Like the singing ceremony, I was too busy worrying about my family drama to listen or care about the lecture taught by Mistress Yvonne. I unknowingly allowed my eyes to wander around the chamber when I was supposed to make eye contact at all times to show respect.

She noticed. Mistress Yvonne snapped her fingers repetitively to get my attention. "My eyes are right here, Youngster Rhys," she said, pointing at her eyes. "And straighten your posture. You look like a lazy lump." Mistress Yvonne sped to me and snatched my boutonniere from my lapel. She curled her lip. "Why do you wear roses? It makes you look colorful and unique," she stated disgusted. Sorcerers hated the idea of uniqueness and vibrancy. Any sign of uniqueness was eliminated. My kind believed in conforming. "When my lecture is over, I will tell Teacher Orne about all this."

Clenching my teeth, I did as she said and tried listening to the rest of her lecture.

After Mistress Yvonne's lecture, we had to listen to Master Simon's lecture. And just like before, I didn't listen. I noticed the master kept staring at me while he was talking. Then he did what I dreaded: He asked me to answer his question. I had no clue what the subject matter was or what he asked, so I had no idea how to respond. I stammered stupidly.

Master Simon was deeply insulted by my distraction. He glared bitterly at me and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry my lecture isn't about your wife's bosom. Maybe then you'd pay attention," he ridiculed.

The other apprentices looked at me and laughed.

It wasn't funny! Stop laughing! And stop looking at me! I thought.

My cheeks were scorching. That was utterly uncalled for and degrading. I was relieved he wasn't my teacher, and I felt sorry for his former apprentice. I resisted the urge to fly away, but doing so would only make matters worse.

"I will have a word with Teacher Orne as soon as possible," said the master, resuming the lecture in his monotonous tone.

_Oh, no._ I'm in trouble now, I thought. Orne had a gift for using shaming tactics that could span for hours. I refused to do the same to my kids.

I sighed as I sank to the ground. That was not the first time I'd been ridiculed during a lecture, and they usually used something from my personal life to demean me if I answered incorrectly. Since the masters disliked me and my personal decisions, there was no one higher up I could complain to about getting harassed. As far as the masters were concerned, I brought disdain upon myself. The masters especially liked to use my lack of celibacy and chastity against me.

Sorcerers took pride in celibacy and chastity. All sorcerers were taught since birth that binding oneself to another hinders one's abilities because then they have to consider the partner's needs first. It would be a distraction from our studies. To my kind, marriage was a superfluous act for the other inferior humanoid species, not for us, the superior species.

Sexual relations of any kind were also taboo. Copulation, even with a spouse, was considered filthy because it exposed what should be private, to a partner, a potential obstacle in life, and one ran the risk of becoming emotionally attached. It was also considered pointless. Even though we had reproductive organs, sorcerers could not procreate with each other, and never considered it, as we were not sexually attracted to our own kind. We could only have hybrid offspring with dwarfs, humans, and elves, however, mating with another species was considered repulsive, because anything not a sorcerer was comparable to a pig or a horse. After all, we were born from fire and stone, not from a union of two mortals. While we may have been born with said organs, we were discouraged from using them, which was not difficult considering how our urges were not as strong as the other reproductive species. However, I was different because I had a lover to share intimacy with, but I guaranteed if other sorcerers knew what they were missing, they would change their minds.

If there was one thing worse than marriage and intimacy, it was having offspring. At least a spouse was not solely dependent on someone else. Children were _major_ distractions. According to the masters, all sorcerers in the past who bore offspring were incompetent because they were distracted. The High Council was ashamed of me for having children. Unlike Orne, who understood why I had R.J. and Meryl, they were furious and lectured me on how I would forever be behind. They were surprised when I proved them wrong by being one of two top students.

Needless to say, they saw me as a tainted scoundrel. I was looked upon with disdain from my superiors and most of my peers. In their eyes, I was a foolish baby having babies. No respect. I often wanted to quit my apprenticeship, due to the level of disrespect I received from the masters so I could live like a human with my family. But if I quit, then I would feel like I had wasted my whole life. I hated the idea of giving up something I'd labored over for years. And there would be no turning back. Once a sorcerer quit or was banished, there was no returning.

It was frustrating how the humans respected me as their prince while my own kind treated me like a child or a plague. I still had humans treat me like an outsider, but I had a lot more respect from the humans as a whole than the sorcerers. It didn't matter to the sorcerers that I was Prince Rhys of Bamarre and a father of six—the father of Bamarre's future king. It probably didn't occur (or matter) to them that our future apprentices would be serving my son someday. The adults and elders just saw me as a misguided youngster, not an individual with political power in human society. Inside our citadel, human society meant nothing.

That was what I couldn't stand about the elders. They were narcissistic and thought they knew everything and anyone younger was foolish. Again, in the human society, I was considered wise because of my age, which was old to their standards. Before I had children, the condescending remarks were tolerable because I saw myself as an adolescent, but now that I was a father and political leader, the remarks were vexing. If only I knew a spell that could make their lips adhere together or one that could mute their voices.

When our series of long lectures were over, the other sorcerers flew out of the chamber and went their separate ways. Henry and I decided to change clothes in our dormitories and agreed to meet in the fountain garden. We were taught since birth not to wear our ceremonial garbs outside of ceremonies and lectures.

I was first to make it to the fountain garden. Since sorcerers were natural flyers, we didn't have roads or paths. Most of our city in between buildings was grassy, and we had several gardens filled with winding grapevines on pillars, cypress trees, chaste trees, aconites, irises, lilies—just about any plant imaginable. Waiting for Henry, I sat on the fountain's stone rim and glanced at the marble statue of some sorcerer hero I forgot the name of, and then gazed at the crystal clear moving water, worrying about the consequences of Meryl's actions. Using my baton, I made a ball of water hover at chest-level. I concentrated as hard as I could to shape the ball into the image of my daughter. Water was much harder to shape than clouds. It required a greater amount of…

"Hello, Rhys," said Matilda.

My spell dissipated back into the fountain water. I looked over my shoulder at Matilda and Henry. I was glad to see them again.

Henry sat down, frowning sympathetically. He placed a comforting hand on my back. "I'm sorry you had to endure that abuse from Master Simon. The masters need to stop doing that. What good does it do to harass you about your marriage decision now? It's been, what… sixteen years? They need to let it go," he said.

I shook my head. "I didn't realize they would give me a hard time this many years after the fact. I thought I'd be ostracized for a few months and then no one would care anymore. If I knew they were going to be like this for the rest of my life, I would—"

"You don't mean that right now," Matilda interrupted. "You're just angry. I know how much you love your family more than anything else, even more than your sorcery." She sat down on my other side. "Speaking of which, how is your family?"

I wasn't going to regret marrying, I was going to... Oh, never mind. It didn't matter anymore. I told them the good news only. I wasn't ready to tell anyone outside my family about what Meryl did. I didn't want to be the one to tell him about Meryl's shameful act.

"Rhys," said the familiar male voice I knew well. Orne. He flew over the fountain and landed in front of me. "Leave us," he ordered to my friends.

My friends got up and left.

He waited until they were out of earshot. At least he had the decency to do that. Orne scowled at me as he raised a hand to count my misconducts. "Mistress Theresa and Mistress Ambrosia both said you were talking in the coliseum," he began listing with his fingers. "Grand Master William said you sang horribly—"

"I didn't sing horribly; I accidentally sang too early," I corrected in vain.

"Rhys, don't interrupt me while I'm talking." He resumed listing with his fingers. "And Mistress Yvonne and Master Simon told me you weren't listening to their lectures." He put his hand down and looked at me with disbelief. "Why did you do that, Rhys? Why do you cause so much trouble?" he asked exasperated. "You act as if I've taught you nothing. Don't you understand that your transgressions are a reflection on me? You make me look bad." Orne paused and glanced at my wedding charm. As soon as he did that, I knew what he was going to say next. Sorcerers were very predictable. "It's all because you bound yourself to that human."

How was it Addie's fault? I asked him to explain, but then I quickly regretted it, remembering how he could talk for hours about the follies of marriage.

After he said she was a bad influence on me, I tuned him out and thought of Meryl again. A lecture after a lecture. Just what I needed. Once he was done, I got up and hovered in place.

"I don't understand why you weren't listening to the lecture," he said.

"I didn't mean to—"

Orne held up a hand to cut me off. "Silence," he commanded, "your teacher speaks." Orne dropped his hand and resumed. "I want to know why you weren't listening."

What other reason was there? Why did I have to voice the obvious? Though, I didn't want to tell him the real reason. "Because I was bored," I said simply. It was true, it just wasn't the full truth.

Orne put his fists on his hips, looking at me disapprovingly. "Rhys, you're not forty," he huffed. "You're too old to be zoning out during lectures." Then he stared at me for a long time. He suspected something more. "Do you want to tell me the real reason before I use a spell to read your mind?"

No! Anything but that! I hated when he did that. "My daughter, Meryl, misbehaved," I answered in a rush.

He observed me quizzically. Did he already cast the spell? Orne could cast certain spells without lifting a finger, which was another skill I couldn't wait to learn. "_That_ is what's troubling you?" he asked dully. "I was expecting it to be something major, like struggling with a spell, not some silly human problem."

Good, he thought it was that simple. I'd let him think that. Frowning, I nodded.

Orne sighed. "Rhys, how many times have I told you? Stop letting small things bother you. Besides, they're trivial human matters that will pass over shortly." He put his hand on my shoulder. "If you're going to worry, it should be about your studies, not your family," he said with a softer tone.

Not my family. That was easy for him to say. He didn't know the pressures of being a husband and father, but I wasn't going to argue; that would prompt another lecture on respect.

"Your midterm exam will be here before you know it." My teacher's expression darkened. "You better not make me look bad in front of the masters," he warned.

It's always about oneself to my egotistical kind. Everything was done for personal gain without any regard for others. Sadly, I was destined to live among them for the remainder of my life, and I dreaded it.

For a second I thought my spark had died as I saw a flaming dragon in the distance, swooping down over the city, coming my way!


	15. Chapter 15: Banished

**Chapter 15: Banished**

The dragon I assumed was Jafe landed on the rooftop of a nearby building and flamed continuously. For a moment I thought the building would collapse under the jarring descent of his massive reptilian body. Jafe was three times the size of a female dragon and had numerous long, sharp spikes that framed his narrow-snouted face. His onyx-colored hide contrasted his crimson belly and inner webbing of his spread and raised wings. It was a good thing that Vollys had captured the once fearful Addie, or else she would have died of fright.

Suddenly, the flames ended. Folding his wings, he closed his flaming maw, and his eyes shone pale orange. "Where is Prince Rhys the sorcerer? I demand to speak with him!" he snarled in his deep, metallic voice. His glistening eyes changed to red, like rubies against onyx, as he prepared to flame at a building in front of him. "If he does not come forth, I'll—"

I launched myself from the garden and hovered in front of him. "I am Prince Rhys," I announced with as much strength as I could muster. I refused to show weakness. He wouldn't respect me if I showed fear (not that he did to begin with).

Jafe swallowed his flame and I heard his low-pitched bells. "You're but a mere apprentice. I was expecting something more… challenging," his voice rumbled.

Challenging? Then he came to fight me. I reached for Storm, which was still buckled at my waist.

"Not so fast, princeling. Stay your sword," he commanded.

Princeling? I wasn't a princeling. That term better suited my sons, but I knew he was trying to patronize me.

"I am here to claim my recompense," he growled, staring at me with those demonic orange eyes.

I was relieved when Orne and a handful of the High Council members lined up behind me. I wasn't sure if I could handle whatever it was he was talking about alone.

"Dragon, why do you ask for recompense from a _mere_ apprentice sorcerer?" asked Mistress Yvonne.

Jafe pointed at me with a long, razor sharp talon. "His cruel mate slew Vollys years ago, and then yesterday their filthy spawn murdered my brother," he replied. He lowered his arm. "Now I am the last of my kind."

But how did he know she was my daughter? "What proof do you have that this female you speak of is my daughter?" I asked, secretly dreading the answer. I had a feeling the response would be maddening.

"I saw unnatural lightning in the distance. Dragons can hear and see things miles away. Hovering above my dying brother was obviously a child of a human and sorcerer, who wielded that magical sword buckled at your waist. As she brandished her sword, the whelp announced her title and her relation to you and Princess Adelina as Kih breathed his last."

My flame sank to my stomach. That sounded like Meryl, all right, but why did she have to do such a stupid thing? I wanted to shake her unconscious.

I heard the High Council members whisper among themselves in Sorcerian, presumably about Meryl, and then I heard someone snarl, "If he didn't get married, this wouldn't have happened!"

I knew that would come up...

The whispers stopped. "Name your price, dragon," said Master Simon.

Perhaps Jafe would be content with the wondrous artifacts from our treasury. I would. Dragons did keep hoards full of treasure.

Jafe extended his neck so that I was forced to look into his eyes. "At this point, I have no interest in hosting a filthy hybrid's stay in my lair, nor do I want to add to my treasury."

I had had enough of everyone referring to my children as "filthy hybrids."

As I was about to snap at him, he said, "I want your daughter's heart between my fangs."

I furrowed my brow. How dare he ask for such a gruesome recompense! Of course I wouldn't agree to that. "You can't have her!" I snarled, Storm drawn.

Jafe raised his neck, eyes red. "Then prepare for battle! I declare war on the humans and sorcerers alike." He opened his wings and started to take off.

My mind was clouded by rage and the need to protect my baby girl. I'll end this now, I thought. I slashed horizontally at Jafe, creating a paralyzing shockwave. While the dragon was stunned, I raced for his red belly and stabbed. Jafe disappeared and I heard a faint laugh. It was a specter.

Was that a joke or did the real Jafe mean it? It was a risk I couldn't take. Occasionally specters would leave Mulee Forest if asked by another monster to help with vanquishing humans. The threat was real.

At least a hundred sorcerers gathered around, wondering what had happened, while the masters spoke quietly in Sorcerian. They whispered among each other, saying things I could not and did not want to understand.

Matilda and Henry floated in front of me. I could tell by their dumbfounded faces they wanted to know everything. "What happened?" asked Matilda, looking around.

"Yes, Rhys, why don't you tell her what you caused?" asked Mistress Ambrosia.

Matilda approached, worry in her green eyes.

"It's not what it sounds like," I explained, preparing her for the shock.

"He started a war," Grand Master William finished. "Now hundreds of our already sparse kind will die, thanks to him," he said coldly.

The other sorcerers gasped and whispered louder.

I spun around to face the masters. I felt compelled to defend myself even if it was futile. "Are you saying I should have gladly handed over my daughter for him to kill?" I had a feeling what they would say in response.

"If it meant saving the rest of your species, yes. It needed to be done," Grand Master William said with conviction. "Besides, she'll die in a few years. Half-breeds don't live long. It's not even a sacrifice."

I couldn't believe what I had just heard. They wanted me to sacrifice my baby. I would never do such a thing. Maybe I could talk to the real Jafe and offer myself in Meryl's place. Maybe then he'd reconsider. I raised my hands at chest level. "I'll try reasoning with him by offering—"

"There is no reasoning at this point," Orne interrupted, flying toward me. "Nothing will sate him until his recompense is paid or we're wiped out. Dragons are vindictive. It is their lot."

Our elected leader, Arch Master Enoch, flew toward me. He was the eldest sorcerer alive and was also considered the powerful. Arch Master Enoch was a few years shy of his five hundredth birthday. "Youngster Rhys of Bamarre, you have betrayed all sorcerers for the sake of an outsider—"

"She's my daughter—_my_ child—my flesh and blood!" I roared, not caring if I disrespected an elder. I was too overwhelmed by the fact that a dragon wanted to kill Meryl, and I was too enraged by my own people for telling me to sacrifice her. At that point, I didn't care about their silly protocols.

I saw Orne sigh and avert his eyes with mortification. I brought my teacher dishonor. When a master spoke, we listened. An apprentice—especially a youngster, was forbidden from interrupting our taciturn arch master, for whenever he did speak, it was imperative. I knew that, but didn't care at the moment. I had lost all respect for our leaders after what they had proposed I should have done with Meryl.

Arch Master Enoch's wrinkled, dark-spotted face twisted in fury. "Do _not_ interrupt me, you misguided runt!" He glared at Orne. "Teacher Orne has clearly taught you nothing."

Orne gulped nervously, knowing there was more.

"Teacher Orne, you are no longer eligible to serve on any council. Through the words and actions of your foolish, insubordinate pupil, you have shown us that you are unworthy to mentor apprentices. You are no longer a teacher," he declared. "You are now an incompetent."

That was not what I wanted! I had no idea Orne would suffer from my decision to protect Meryl and for speaking out of line. Orne was a wonderful teacher. What they said was false. "No!" I blurted. "My actions are mine alone," I explained, trying in vain to redeem his reputation. "Orne is a fine teacher."

"Silence!" Master Enoch reddened with anger as he flashed me a livid glare. The elderly sorcerer shook with rage. "I said do _not_ interrupt me!" he shouted.

As I opened my mouth to protest more, my jaw slammed shut, forcing my teeth together so hard that for a second I thought one of my teeth had cracked.

"As I was saying," he began. "Throughout the years, you have been nothing but a disgrace to sorcerers. You have the silly notion that you're special, like some ridiculous emotional human, and you foolishly bound yourself to a simple creature and spawned half-bred abominations through a vile act."

How dare he call my wife a simple creature, and how dare he refer to my children as half-bred abominations! I married a human and had children with her. There was nothing foolish or vile about my marriage or what goes on in the bedchamber. This was the one thing I knew better than he did.

"I, Arch Master Enoch, sentence you to banishment."

Banishment was the ultimate disgrace. No one spoke of it because it rarely happened. The last time a sorcerer was banished was six thousand years ago. I stopped resisting the spell on my mouth. I had no words; I was stripped of my dignity as a sorcerer.

"If you want to love your precious humans so much, then stay with them forever and live like them. Do not come here again," Enoch spoke coldly.

How was that possible? I was physically drawn to the citadel. What were they going to do? Build a dome to keep me out? I wanted to see them try.

Arch Master Enoch gazed at me with icy eyes. I tried to look away, but I could not move a muscle in my body. What was he doing to me?

Suddenly, my head felt like someone drove a red hot stiletto through my skull and twisted the knife. I screamed in a pitch I didn't know I could produce. I plummeted to the ground and landed on my stomach, forcing the air from my lungs. As I writhed in agony, I prayed that the burning sensation would stop.

Some sorcerers gasped in the background, but did nothing; they were too stunned from witnessing a banishment.

While I endured the subsiding pain in my head, Enoch spoke again. "I have singed the part of your brain that binds you to this place. You will no longer be drawn here. You are a rogue sorcerer, worse than an incompetent."

My head was throbbing in pain so much I became photosensitive. Getting on all fours, I observed him through squinted eyes. But squinting wasn't enough to ease my photosensitivity; I shielded my eyes with my hand.

Without making a gesture, Enoch ripped the sword and its buckle from my waist and held the weapon by its base. He stared down at me. "You have thirty minutes to gather your things. The High Council will personally escort you out." Enoch turned to the spectators. "Behold," he began, pointing at me, "this is what happens to those who disregard the teachings. None of this would have happened if he never married."

I knew he was going to trace it back to my marriage. It didn't matter anymore. At least I would no longer be harassed about it. A part of me was relieved that I would no longer mingle with cold bigots.

Matilda dove to be at my side. She secured her hand around my arm and guided me to stand. As I stood, I noticed tears in her sad eyes. Even after what I'd done, she still stood by me. I didn't realize I meant so much to her.

Henry did not move a muscle. It was as though we were strangers. Coward. Some friend he was. I thought I knew him better. In times like these, your true friends were revealed.

"Youngster Matilda, leave him be," barked Master Simon. "He is not one of us."

She faced him. "I will not abandon my friend in his time of need," she declared, squaring her shoulders.

Another master shrugged. "Let the petty humans help him. He cares more about them anyway."

Matilda balled her fists. "I won't!" she snapped. "He needs me more than ever, and I will not sit back and watch him struggle."

Matilda...

"So you'd rather side with a human-loving rogue?" the master asked.

She glared at the master. "It's better than living in this citadel of cold-blooded carcasses!" she spat.

Her outburst was surprising. Did she want to become a rogue? I didn't want that for her, but it was too late.

Some of the masters gasped and whispered in Sorcerian.

"So be it!" Master Enoch snarled. He did the same to her brain as he did with mine and issued the same sentence of banishment.

The sorcerer spectators drifted away quietly, leaving Matilda and me alone with the masters and a solemn Orne. Did he not care about me? Apparently not. That was a huge slap in the face.

Matilda and I flew away from their presence to pack our things from our dormitories. At least I had a home outside the citadel. Matilda had nowhere else to go. She could live at the castle with my family. I was certain they'd adore her. I had been with her since she was born, and had greatly influenced her, so she took after me. In a sense, Matilda was like a daughter and little sister to me.

The sorceress was born in the outside world fifty-five years ago. The first time I met her at the citadel she was newly born, wearing only a blanket she had stolen. There was a nobleman who wanted to witness a sorcerer birth, so he ordered servants to bring out a slab of marble during a thunderstorm and birthed Matilda. Sadly, that was the only thing he wanted: to witness a birth. He had no desire to care for the being he brought into the world; he didn't even have the heart to clothe her. Fortunately, the summons started at midnight, shortly after her birth. Matilda managed to steal a blanket on her way to the citadel to keep warm while she flew. I was the first to meet her when she arrived at the citadel, not speaking any Bamarrian. Sorcerers may have been born capable of speech, but the newborns couldn't speak what they hadn't heard yet. Griselda was kind enough to dress and mentor Matilda, and I also played a vital part in her development: I socialized with her often to help her learn the language faster, and I gave her affection (which she absorbed like a sponge).

I never meant to get any of my sorcerer friends in trouble. I was drowned in shame. If I knew that would happen, I wouldn't have been so brash. It was my greatest regret.

The High Councilors escorted us out, like they said they would. We glided to Bamarre castle—our real home, to be with the loving humans. At least I was going to see my wife. I wasn't expected for another week. Addie would most certainly ask questions concerning my early arrival, and I dreaded giving her the explanation.

As we drifted through the castle, searching for Addie, we came to the music hall where R.J. was singing a ballad. Wanting the two to meet after years of me constantly talking about him, I decided to finally introduce them. Matilda and I drifted into the music hall and stood right behind R.J., waiting for him to finish the ballad he wrote about finding true love. He wrote the composition in a key that would show off his rich baritone voice.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Matilda and caught her gazing reverently at R.J., mouth slightly open. The musically inclined sorceress closed her eyes and subtly swayed to the music.

Once he was done, I clapped loudly and flamboyantly. "Beautiful!" I boomed.

He jumped; obviously he didn't know someone was behind him. As he turned around, R.J.'s hand accidentally knocked over the music stand. In confusion he bent to right it, but Matilda was already there. They reached for his sheet music at the same time. Their hands touched for a brief moment before finding some other loose sheets to grab. As they stood, Matilda handed R.J. his music, and then he swept her a deep bow with the most flourishes she had ever seen.

Matilda chuckled and blushed. She glanced at me and then back at R.J. When he was done bowing, she curtsied.

"R.J., this is Matilda. Matilda, this is my eldest son and the heir apparent, Prince Rhys junior of Bamarre," I introduced.

"Hello, Your Highness," Matilda greeted shyly, barely able to look him in the eye. "Your father talks about your beautiful singing voice often. I'm so happy to meet the musician."

"Thank you," he murmured, gazing dreamily at Matilda. R.J. stammered, "You may c-call me R.J., simply R.J." He smiled kindly at her.

My son was instantly enamored. I had to refrain from laughing at his stuttering and awkward mannerisms.

There was a pause before Matilda broke the silence. "That ballad you were singing is beautiful," she said. "Would you mind… singing it again?"

Her compliment made him smile broadly. "Not at all, my lady," he murmured gallantly. Music was the road to his heart.

They were instantly infatuated, which made me glad.

I left them alone so they could get better acquainted, but also because I needed to be alone. I didn't have the strength to face Addie, as she would undoubtedly question my early arrival. I needed to postpone seeing her for as long as possible until I was done musing.

I went to the north tower and leaned against the battlement, gazing at the fields below, feeling as though I were an empty carcass. My mind raced and my flame felt tiny. My flame. It was the life force of every sorcerer, even me, a rogue. A rogue. That's all I was. Sorcerers would be telling tales about my banishment for millennia. I was the epitome of failure. How could I even show my face to anyone? _Who_ would want to see my wretched face anymore? What good was I as a role model—I wasn't one. Yes, I was. I was an example of failure at its finest. The people in my life were better off without me. Look what I did to Orne. Because of me, his goals were sabotaged. I couldn't do that to anyone else. People were better off without me. I knew what I had to do to ensure others could be happy.

I placed my foot on the battlement to jump off and felt inviting arms from behind wrap affectionately around my waist.

"I'm so glad to see you, my love—my dearest husband," Addie murmured into my back.

What was I doing, or more accurately, what was I thinking? I had a family who loved me dearly no matter what. Addie wouldn't want me to leave her and neither would our children. I thought of how Addie would react if she discovered I had jumped to my death. She would never forgive me for deserting her and she would never forgive herself for not being there for me the moments before I took my life. I couldn't leave her with that guilt or endless pain.

I turned around and kissed her lips. Kissing her quenched my thirst for her affection. "Hello, my sweet," I greeted, touching my forehead to hers.

"I thought your stay was supposed to last a week."

No matter how much it stung, I had to tell her; she was my wife. As best friends, we told each other everything. "I won't be going to the citadel anymore. My apprenticeship is over…"

Addie looked at me quizzically.

"I..." It was too painful to admit, but I had to. "I've been banished."

She gasped. "Oh, Rhys, that's terrible," she said sympathetically. Addie asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

I shook my head. I appreciated her offer but there was nothing she could do to remedy the situation. Her presence alone would give me strength to continue onward. "I need... your love and support," I murmured.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I told her what transpired at the citadel and the horrible things the masters had said. I was appalled to be a member of the same species. I abhorred their views on children and marriage more than I already did. I desperately wanted to be human to fit in so I could age and die with Addie. I dreaded the inevitable days when I would have to bury my family members. "Addie, I've dedicated my life to sorcery and now it's over... it's all over," I stated miserably. My eyes watered. "That's ninety-eight years wasted. I've wasted my entire life," I croaked, feeling the uncomfortable lump in my throat. "All my hard work was for nothing. I've been stripped of my dignity. I'm a rogue," I whispered.

Addie met my worried eyes with her assured ones. "I will never desert you, my dear husband." She touched noses with mine. "That is a promise."

Hearing her devotion gave me reassurance.

"I'm here for you and I always will be till my dying day," she promised. "The sorcerers may have forsaken you, but I will not. This isn't the first trial we've been through together, nor will it be the last. Let me help you through this," she begged, placing a hand on my cheek. "We can do this together."

I was instantly uplifted by her loyalty, though I was still upset with my predicament. However, talking to Addie soothed me for the moment. I grabbed my marriage charm for a "charm bump."

She knew the drill. Chuckling, Addie pulled hers out and tapped her charm against mine.

Not wanting to have the focus purely on me, I proceeded to ask about her day and how the children fared. She told me about her busy day, preparing the army. I repositioned so that I leaned against the battlement. Addie did the same. I looked down at her stomach. "How is the baby?" I asked.

"Still causing morning sickness, which concerns me for tomorrow," she answered.

I expressed how I didn't like the idea of her fighting in the upcoming war. She claimed it was her duty as commander, and if she didn't, the knights would lose respect for her. Addie wanted her vassals to love and respect her, and she felt the best way to do that was by mingling with them. She assured me by telling me how the midwives said the safest stage for the baby is the first trimester. I decided to trust her. "Are you concerned your morning sickness will interfere with war preparations in the morning?" I inquired.

Addie shook her head. "No, I'm having a private breakfast with Father in the tearoom."

Hearing that made me happy. I was glad my father-in-law was finally making an attempt to be a part of Addie's life. "That's wonderful, Addie. I'm happy for you."

"Looks like we've both had a rough day," Addie stated. She pushed off the battlement and pulled my hand in the direction of the ladder. "Let's take a relaxing bath together, and then give each other massages. It's been ages since we've done that."

I liked the sound of relaxing in warm water, away from everyone except my wife, and I liked the idea of her massaging my muscle tension. "As you wish, Wife." I picked her up and flew down from the tower.


	16. Chapter 16: Power Shift

**Chapter 16: Power Shift**

I opted to stay in Addie's bedchamber throughout the night and remained there while she slept. We mainly talked about war preparations. Some of the tactics went over my head, since I did not study warfare to the extreme she did throughout our marriage. Addie expressed her fears and concerns to me. All I could do was listen and give support through words of encouragement. I admired her courage and determination. I was the one who saw her courage before anyone else. I remembered back when she was a cowardly maiden of sixteen years. Addie most certainly changed, but my unwavering love for her did not and would not. I would support my wife no matter what decisions she made.

At half past four in the morning, I heard footsteps in the corridor. Initially, I thought they belonged to the servants, but then I realized it was too early for them to begin their duties. The footsteps were approaching. I readied my baton as someone knocked on the door. The knocking put me more at ease. I opened the door and saw Bella.

The tired governess curtsied. "You and Princess Addie are needed in the council chamber at once," she declared gravely. "Will you please wake her and come immediately? There's no time to lose."

Why were we needed at this unreasonable hour? Regardless, I nodded in compliance. I woke Addie from her slumber and handed the nightgown-clad princess an embroidered robe for modesty, telling her that we were needed at the council chamber. Red-eyed and drowsy, she asked why; I didn't have an answer.

We went to the council chamber where the councilors awaited. They gathered in front of us and knelt, heads bowed.

Oh, no... This can only mean one thing, I thought.

Still kneeling, Chancellor Desmond took Addie's hand and kissed it. "Your Majesty, I am your humble servant," he said, pressing his forehead against her hand. Desmond appealed to Addie. "All hail Her Majesty, Queen Adelina of Bamarre," he spoke formally.

"Long live the queen," the other councilors chanted. "Long live the queen."

I knelt beside Addie to show my respect for her new title. My wife just became queen. I was married to the queen of Bamarre—the most powerful person in the kingdom. It felt surreal.

Addie looked at me with confused, tear-filled eyes. She cast about for words but none escaped. The new queen was overwhelmed. Addie sucked in a breath and stammered, "W-what happened to my f-father?"

"King Lionel died of heart failure, according to Milton," Chancellor Desmond replied somberly, standing up. "His Majesty reported feelings of heartburn and then chest tightness. Milton did everything he could."

At age sixty-four my father-in-law passed away. Even for humans sixty-four wasn't that old, but then I remembered how Astrid had died of the same thing. I was instantly worried for our children, as they could possibly—No, I didn't want to think about it.

Addie's tears streamed down her red face. Under different circumstances, I would have taken her in my arms so she could cry, but we had to be proper in front of politicians.

I took her hand and said, "As your prince consort, I will devoutly serve you, my queen." I kissed her hand. "I am your humble servant," I said, bowing my head below the level of her hand.

Addie did not look at me. Her gaze was fixed on something in the chamber to prevent herself from losing her composure. Looking at someone would probably cause her to break down into sobs. "Thank you, Prince Rhys for your devotion," she struggled to say regally in front of the councilors.

I did not envy her situation. What a burden it was to inherit the crown during wartime, but I did not doubt her capabilities. When pushed, my Addie could move mountains and walk across oceans. In my opinion, Addie was even greater than Drualt the laugher. While he may have had more adventures and defeated more monsters than Addie, Drualt was a behemoth of a man, whereas Addie was a slender princess, who later learned how to fight her way to the top. To me, her accomplishments weighed more probably because I was biased.

We went back into Addie's bedchamber so she could sob on my shoulder with abandon. I sobbed as well, for he was my father-in-law and I loved him. It didn't matter that he wasn't expressive with words; I still loved him because he was a part of my family and the only grandparent my children had. Lionel may have been standoffish, but he was always kind to me, even when I worked for him. He never spoke sharply to me for my mistakes, and if he was ever displeased with my work, he calmly and tactfully informed me of the issue.

Addie desperately clung to me. "This isn't real," she sobbed. "He can't be dead—_how_ can he be dead? He's the king," she said in a rush. "I'm just his second born daughter. There's no way I can rule." Addie clung harder. "Oh, Rhys, I didn't want... I didn't want him to die this soon." Her sobbing intensified. "I'm not ready to bury him," she wept miserably.

I caressed her back. In moments like those, it was best to let her express all her pain before saying anything.

She shook her head. "I can't do this," Addie croaked. "I'm not ready to be queen of Bamarre."

I pried her off me and looked at her. I didn't like her self-doubt. Addie was the strongest person I knew and she needed me to remind her. "Yes, you can," I said emphatically. "Your father was the third in line yet he still managed. He was even younger than you are when he ascended the throne.

Her face wrinkled with sadness and insecurity. She shook her head. "You don't understand."

I didn't appreciate her using that excuse on me, but I would use it to my advantage. "You're right, I don't know what it's like to lose a father or be thrown into an uncomfortable situation," I said facetiously.

Addie's expression changed to understanding. She probably forgot that I had a father long ago.

"While I may not have been born into royalty, I still can relate to what you're feeling." I paused. "You are worthy to lead Bamarre," I said with conviction. "I _believe_ in you."

She stared at me, not sure what to say.

"I may not have been born a prince, but I am your consort and I take my role seriously," I said. "Bear in mind that I am older than any of your councilors. Though I'm not a politician, I've seen Bamarre change drastically over the years. I've seen wars and famines throughout the decades, and three sovereigns—now four. I'm going to be by your side until your reign is over."

"Yesterday we talked for hours, getting to know each other," she said in disbelief. "I told him some childhood adventures I had with Meryl and he told me about his adventures he had with his brothers." She stopped talking and scrunched her face in frustration. "He was going to change," she declared with certainty, voice raised. "Before leaving, he hugged and kissed me and told me that he loved me." Addie looked at me again. "If I would have known that yesterday was our last day together, I would have—I should have—" Addie broke off and cried harder than ever. She was too devastated and shocked to think and speak coherently.

I held her close again to give her reassurance.

"I thought we'd have years to bond, to have a father-daughter relationship we should have had from the beginning, but now... it will never happen."

"Yes, he should have reached out to you years ago, but at least, even for a day, you had the chance to reconcile and bond with him," I told her. "At least you have that to hold on to."

Addie didn't respond. I hoped what I had told her would help her feel better. It would probably take a while before she recovered, as I remembered being in her situation when my father died.

Lionel's unexpected death was a cruel coincidence. After reconciling with her father, he unexpectedly died on the first day they would finally spend quality time together. But I knew for certain that under this new regime, Bamarre would prosper. At least there was that. I was glad Addie was the ruler and not me. There was no way I could lead a kingdom. I didn't have the strength. My purpose in life was to love others by putting their needs before my own—something I decided long ago. I am a humble servant. And on top of that, I didn't handle stress well; I had the tendency to get riled up easily. I was relieved that I wasn't born to a king for that reason. But I would serve my sovereign in any way I could to the best of my abilities.

**. . .**

I needed a break from reading aloud; my mouth was parched. Sorcerers may not have needed to drink for survival, but sometimes we needed to quench our thirst from talking too long. That was what the cup on my desk, resting on the doily Bella gave me, was for. Waving my baton over the cup, it began to fill itself with water. About three-fourths full, I waved my baton again to end the spell. It didn't stop. My cup was going to overflow! Quickly, I grabbed the cup and slurped the top to prevent a spill. The water wouldn't stop flowing! I tried waving my baton again, but this time it was worse. My tongue was now stuck to a block of ice.

"Father, what's wrong?" asked Daria, curious why I was motionless.

Embarrassed, I turned to the side to show her what was wrong.

Daria and Matilda laughed at the ridiculous sight of me having my tongue stuck to ice.

Matilda passed Eliza to Daria and drifted to me, still chuckling. Pulling out her baton she said, "Allow me."

Anything but that! I thought. I'd rather keep messing up than have her try to fix my problem. I shook my head vigorously and tried telling her, "I got it."

It was too late. Matilda already cast a spell.

The block of ice changed into a warty toad. My tongue touched a toad's warty skin! Gross! Disgusted and startled, I threw the cup away from me and spat, not caring if it was taboo to do such a thing indoors. So much for quenching my thirst. At least I wouldn't catch a disease.

Daria screamed as the toad hopped away until I made it turn back into water. My daughter grinned at me. "But what if it was going to turn into a beautiful princess?" she teased.

"Very funny," I said. I shivered from the disgusting experience. I glared at a laughing Matilda. "I told you I had it," I chided.

"But I thought I could do it," she countered innocently, taking Eliza back.

I didn't say anything in response. Saying something would lead to regrets in my present state of mind.

I needed a distraction. I put the journal in my lap and continued reading.

**. . .**

Addie managed to hastily prepare her army within mere days. Wanting to keep the battle as far away from home as possible, Addie led her troops to the Eskern Mountains. We remembered how Vollys rallied her small army in the Aisnan Valley, and wanted to intercept them in or near their homeland before they had the chance to come near Bamarre castle or any human establishment.

I insisted on going despite Addie's protests. She wanted me to stay home with our children, but I wanted to protect her and our unborn baby on the battlefield. I convinced Addie to let me go by reminding her how I killed many gryphons in the battle of the Aisnan Valley. Whatever gryphons her archers missed, I would help slay in the sky. The upcoming battle would put my skill at arms to the test. Now I understood why Addie was so persistent about me learning how to fight. Admittedly, now that a real threat arose, I wished I had trained harder.

Addie arranged for Milton to be her personal medic and to have a team of elf nurses accompany us. We would be in good hands if something happened on the battlefield, though I would do everything in my power to ensure their safety.

Since no one knew when the battle would begin, I donned my full suit of armor and felt as if I'd overheat instantly. It was a hot summer day without a cloud in sight or a breeze. I would need to stay hydrated to keep myself from becoming delirious on the battlefield. I drank water to keep myself from overheating. I hated having to drink. I loathed it because, when it came to food consumption, whatever went in had to come out. The sensation of having to relieve myself was uncomfortable. I didn't see how humans could stand it on a regular basis, but I supposed I would have become accustomed to it if I drank more often. In that regard, I was glad I was a sorcerer.

My uneasy flame wouldn't stop flickering and my stomach wouldn't stop flipping as I flew beside Addie's charger. My mind couldn't grasp that I was going off to war. I tried convincing myself that I had fought monsters in the past, but I was still terrified. During the Aisnan Valley battle, the fairies watched over us, but this time we didn't have any indication that they would be doing the same. I hoped they were. Why wouldn't they be?

There was a monster force that came at us before the foothills of the Eskern Mountains, comprising of at least a hundred ogres and five hundred gryphons. A knight blew the battle horn to prepare the army for battle. I feared we didn't have enough aerial power to fight off all the gryphons, so I did my best to keep the gryphons aloft, away from the humans, who were already battling the formidable ogres. My suit of armor could withstand arrows, even at close range. I jetted through the sky, acting as bait to lure the gryphons closer for the archers to shoot. Since I weighed less than the gryphons, I was more agile and could fly higher, making me the perfect lure. When I was close to the ground, I would slay nearby ogres by slitting their throats before ascending back into the sky to repeat the process. Eventually, some gryphons caught on to my flying pattern and were able to chase me. For those particular ones, I would fly as fast as I could and then turn around and abruptly stop, sword pointed; they would impale themselves on my blade. I alone killed at least two hundred gryphons and fifteen ogres.

After all the gryphons were picked off, I made a fog appear level with the ogres' faces to obstruct their visions so that the humans could have an advantage. In the battle of the Aisnan Valley, the uneven terrain gave the small, agile humans an advantage but this battle was different. The flat land made the humans easy targets for the gigantic, club-wielding ogres. One swing could wipe out five humans. On the flat battlefield, the ogres fought in groups, making them even harder to bring down.

It was time for me to fight on land. I found Addie, and quickly stood back to back, swords vertical, to show our camaraderie. Then, swords parallel to the ground, we lunged together at the closest ogre. We slew it together. Even in the heat of battle, there was nothing better than working with my spouse to achieve the same goal. Addie wasn't a distraction in the least; her presence on the battlefield only gave me more resolve.

Once the skirmish was over, to celebrate, the humans had a feast provided by the magic tablecloth. The food it provided was the best food some of the soldiers have ever eaten. The battle must have worn the humans out because they ate like horses.

After eating, we pitched camp. Some knights and I would stand watch throughout the night. They patrolled the land and I patrolled the sky. I wanted to patrol by myself to ensure the humans could sleep soundly, but I was just one out of a few thousand. Judging by the position of the moon, I could tell it was Addie's bedtime. I wanted to kiss her goodnight (like I normally did) before she fell asleep. Flying above camp, I easily found her large tent and landed in front of the entrance, where two guards were standing.

The guards looked startled for a split second, then they crossed their halberds. "Halt, creature. We know what you are," said one of them.

"You can't fool us," the other added. "The real Prince Rhys is already inside talking to Her Majesty."

Already inside, talking to—No, it couldn't be! My wife was gulled _again_! I couldn't believe it. How many times was she going to be fooled? I was frustrated at Addie for being tricked again and mad at myself for not coming sooner. Determined to save Addie from the imposter, I shouted, "Let me in, you fools! I'm no specter!"

They didn't budge.

Thanks to the lit oil lamps, I saw Addie's silhouette turn in the direction of my voice, and then she asked, "Did you hear that?"

"No, my dear," it crooned, grazing its hand down the side of her face. And then it did the vilest thing: It _kissed_ her! That disgusting creature kissed _my_ beautiful wife! _How dare it!_

Quicker than I knew possible, I whipped out my baton and turned the guards' halberds into sunflowers.

Baffled, the guards observed the limp flowers in their hands, giving me enough time to launch myself into Addie's tent.

There she was clad in an under tunic, standing with a specter that looked like me.

I shouted her name, and right as she was turning around, the specter plunged a knife into her arm.

Crying out, Addie turned back to the smirking specter.

"Jafe sends his regards," it mocked. The abhorrent creature laughed maniacally as it vanished, taking the knife with it. We hadn't the need for it to prophesy; we just wanted it to go away. I thought it was strange how during the battle we never encountered specters. Now I understood. They were waiting for us to get comfortable before they attacked.

The gash oozed dark blood through her under tunic. Hurriedly, I tore off her bloodied sleeve and wadded it into a ball. I pressed it against her arm to staunch the bleeding. "Hold this as tightly as you can while I get Milton," I instructed.

Addie was panting in agony and fright. She nodded and pressed her hand against the wad, holding it in place.

I flew out of the tent and shouted for Milton.

He rushed out of his tent, which was nearby, and so did some other men to see what was causing the commotion.

I informed Milton what had happened to Addie. He wasted no time. The elf nurse went back into his tent to gather his things before coming to Addie's aid inside her tent.

As Milton tended to the wound, I held Addie's other hand to soothe her nerves and distract her from the painful stitches Milton was sewing into her flesh. When Milton was done, he gave her a moily herb to suck on before leaving the tent.

Shortly after Milton left, one of the guards came in remorsefully. He bowed. "A thousand apologies, Your Highness. I didn't realize Her Majesty was in the presence of a specter."

I held up a hand and shook my head. "No need to apologize. I'm sorry I called you a fool." I didn't care if he was below me socially. I had lived many decades as a commoner, therefore I did not fancy myself as a superior being just because I wed into the royal family later in my life.

He inclined his head and thanked me. The guard faced Addie. "Your Majesty, if it pleases you, I suggest His Highness should stay in your tent for the night."

What about me protecting the camp? "But what about me guarding the skies?" I asked.

"I'll arrange for more archers to stand watch."

I thanked him and then he left.

Frustrated, I turned to Addie. "Addie, specters fool you too often," I said, not caring if she took offense. "If we have been separated for a long period of time, we need to do the test first thing to be certain."

"But there weren't any specters on the battlefield," she countered.

"It doesn't matter. If I didn't enter as soon as I did, you'd be dead," I said. "From now on, we must do the test after being separated."

She agreed, and then I dropped the subject.

The shaken Addie wanted me close. She laid on her other side and pulled the covers over herself, head looking over her shoulder to make sure I would join her.

I slipped in between the covers and pressed up against her back. Under different circumstances, I would have been thrilled to have had the chance to snuggle Addie, but with her serious injury, I was concerned for her. I would take that time to rest in the dark, quiet night to prepare for the next battle. It had been a long time since I'd rested like that for hours.

During the night, I thought of my children and wondered how they fared with both parents absent. Throughout their lives, Addie was a princess, meaning she was never gone from the castle. So at least one of us was home at all times. A part of me feared Meryl got herself in even more trouble, but I lacked evidence, so I decided not to fret. I thought of the citadel and wondered what was happening while I was fighting alongside the humans. It didn't matter. They despised me anyway, so might as well not worry about them. But I couldn't stop thinking about Orne. For the first time his silence pierced me in the chest (which was fatal for sorcerers too). I still couldn't believe how he kept quiet while they banished me. I felt betrayed by someone I thought was dear to me. That incident proved to me that he was merely a cold carcass of a being, who cared for nothing beyond his sorcery. And all those decades, I wasted my time loving him as my friend and mentor. What a waste. I wished I never became emotionally attached to him. Maybe then his betrayal wouldn't have been so painful.

No. I was the one who ruined his life's work. His betrayal was my doing. He didn't have a reason to defend me, not after what I did to him.

I felt tightness in my throat as tears pooled. Pulling the sleeping Addie closer to me, I allowed my tears to trickle. Showing emotion, especially crying, was frowned upon by sorcerers. Emotions were for the inferior, short-lived humans. That was another example of how I was different: I cried easily and was provoked easily. I sighed. Deep down I knew I was better off among the humans.

Hours later, morning came. I allowed Addie to awaken on her own. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up. Addie held her bandage and looked at me sternly. I knew that look. It was the look she gave me when she was displeased at me or the children. Why did she wake up mad at me? Did she have a nightmare? What did I do? "Rhys, I want you to go home."

After what she went through, she wanted me to leave her? Absolutely not. I shook my head. "I'm not leaving you," I protested stubbornly.

And then I saw a resemblance between Addie and her sister. She gave me a wide-eyed glare. "That's not a suggestion. It's an order," she said.

Addie had never barked orders to me before. I wanted to know why she wanted me away from her. "Why are you sending me away? We're a team," I tried reasoning. "Cling close and never part," I quoted from our wedding song she loved to sing from time to time. That should make her reconsider.

Addie squeezed her eyes shut and snarled, "I know what the Bamarrian wedding song says!" She paused for a moment and then looked at me with teary eyes. "We might die in battle, leaving our children without parents. If you're at home with them, at least they will still have a father."

I still didn't like her idea. "But you're with child," I countered. "I can't leave my expecting wife to die on the battlefield while I'm safe at home, sitting in a chair, knitting by the fireplace." I didn't knit; I just reached for something random to emphasize my point.

"You will do as I say," she said venomously. "I am your queen, and I command you to go home!" She looked at the entry. "Guards!"

Did she just call the guards? My stomach flipped.

The guards came rushing in, hands on their sword hilts.

"Arrest him!"

Arrest me?

The guards restrained me before I could fly away. The guards were burly men, much heavier than me. I couldn't carry more than my own weight while flying.

"Take him to Bamarre castle and lock him up in the dungeon. I'll deal with him later," said Addie.

First my daughter started a war, then the sorcerers banished me, and then I was arrested by my own wife. Could things get any worse? I tried my hardest to conceal a grin. As soon as I had the opportunity, I would fly away. As if they read my mind, the bigger guard of the two struck my head, stunning me. The sorcerers singed my brain and now someone struck my head. How much head trauma was I going to endure? I thought. The painful blow that would knock a human unconscious paralyzed me and gave me the worst migraine I had ever felt. While in that state of paralysis, my eyes were closed, but I could hear and feel everything. I had only been in that state once in my life and that was when a human from the village I lived in attacked me. The state of paralysis didn't last long—about as long as being unconscious for humans. I still didn't like the idea of them taking advantage of my defenselessness, though. I was livid at them for temporarily paralyzing me and I was livid at Addie for sending me home.

When my eyes opened and my mobility returned, I saw the chains they had tightly wrapped around me so that I couldn't hold my baton to cast spells, and they leashed me to the guard who struck me. They chained me in a way that would constrict if I tried flying away. The harder I tried, the tighter the hold became. I felt degraded.

It took us days to reach home. They escorted me through the corridors to the dungeon, turning many a head. I avoided eye contact with those I passed, including my kids. I didn't have the strength to look at them. What kind of example was I to my children? I knew I wasn't a criminal, but they didn't. The humiliation...

After descending many stairs, we made it to the dungeon. The guards led me into a cell and chained me to multiple balls of lead, like a prisoner. The plan was to keep me there until Addie gave the word. Surely she wouldn't keep me in a cell for too long.

The betrayal by my loved ones was overwhelming and vexing. How could Addie arrest me like that? She didn't do anything to prevent that guard from assaulting me, and it really hurt. As soon as I was released, I would unload my frustration on her. I didn't care if she was the sovereign; I was her husband before she became queen. I may have vowed to serve her, but I didn't vow to allow her to treat me shamefully.

I had no idea how many days I was there, since there were no windows and no one came to feed me three times a day. I had visitors to keep me company, though. R.J., Rosie, Daria, and Matilda came to visit me periodically. My rightfully curious children inquired about my imprisonment. I told them the truth. R.J. sided with me, possibly because he was another male and understood my thought process. In fact, R.J. was offended that Addie didn't think he could protect his sisters. He agreed that a man must protect his woman on the battlefield. The girls didn't say anything because they weren't sure which parent was right.

While I was sitting in a corner, the councilors entered the dungeon and stood in front of my cell. A guard opened the cell, enabling Chancellor Desmond to enter. I couldn't read his expression. Desmond told the guards to release me.

Feeling those chains fall was the most liberating feeling I had ever felt. It felt like I could breathe again.

"Prince Rhys," Desmond addressed me formally. He and the other councilors knelt.

My flame danced irregularly. I remembered them doing this to Addie once she was named queen. My breathing hastened and I began to perspire. "Wh-why are you kneeling to me?" I asked shakily. "I am merely your prince."

The councilors remained kneeling. Only Desmond looked up at me. "You are more than that now, Your Highness." His pause felt like an hour. "Her Majesty is..."

Is what? I thought. Tell me before I turn you into a—

"Comatose."


	17. Chapter 17: Breaking Point

**Chapter 17: Breaking Point**

How could that be? My beloved was in a deep sleep. I felt as though I were drowning in ice water. My logical mind believed them, but my soul could not. My soul couldn't believe the councilors until I saw Addie with my own eyes.

"Take me to her," I ordered.

They obliged.

Nothing went through my mind as I followed. The horrendous news ceased all thoughts until they led me into her chamber, where the comatose Addie rested in her nightdress.

She slept soundly, not a single movement, save for the subtle rise and fall of her chest.

Milton was feeling her pulse. Once he was done, he bowed to me and picked up his knitting before sitting down on a stool. "Hello, Prince Rhys."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't, not while my wife was stuck in an indefinite slumber. I hovered beside her, taking her nearest hand. The appendage was colder than usual—an unpleasant reminder of her unconscious state.

"I'm doing everything I can, Your Highness," Milton said, looking at me with gloomy eyes.

Then I looked at the bedside table and saw anemones. Why were those there? Anemones were believed to bring peace to the—"Milton, why are these here?" I asked angrily, pointing at the flowers.

Milton opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came forth as he opened and shut his jaw, trying to find the right words.

I snatched the vase of flowers and shook them in front of him. "Why did you put anemones next to her bedside? She doesn't need these!" I snarled, towering over the elf. I was greatly offended by what he was implying by placing the flowers next to her bedside.

Milton was shaking. I had never spoken sharply to him before, and my tall stature was intimidating him, as he stood level with my abdomen.

I waited impatiently for an answer—an answer I didn't really want to hear, but I felt compelled to know for certain.

Right as I was about to shout at him, he replied, "Comatose patients rarely li—" he cut off mid-sentence as tears formed in his sad eyes.

My flame flickered as my shallow breaths hastened. His hesitance would be the death of me. Not wanting to hold the flowers anymore, I placed the vase back down on the bedside table.

The door swung open, revealing a sobbing Bella. Without bothering to curtsy to me, she hurried over to Addie's bedside to caress her cheek and hold her hand. Sitting down on the bed, Bella said, "Wake up, dear. I can't bear to lose both you and Meryl, and neither can the kingdom." She brushed an errant strand of hair out of Addie's face. "You're the kingdom's beacon of hope. Without you, the people are lost," she whimpered. "Oh, please wake up." Bella's sobs returned.

My two eldest children rushed into the chamber and hurried to be next to their unconscious mother. Merry's cheeks were soaked with tears, whereas R.J. looked overwhelmed.

Merry embraced Addie and cried into her chest. "Mother," she sobbed. After a few minutes Merry released Addie and faced me. A small part of me was hoping we would bond by saying encouraging words to each other during this difficult time, but her hostile body language crushed those hopes. She glowered at me.

"Can't you do something? You're a sorcerer," she snapped. "Isn't there a spell that could wake her up?"

Not this again, I thought. I remembered Addie asking me to "do something" for Meryl when she had the Gray Death, except Addie's tone wasn't harsh.

"Meryl, you know I can't," I snapped back, fists on hips. "Don't you think I would if I could?"

"Then what's the point of learning sorcery if it's good for nothing?"

I wasn't learning sorcery anymore, thanks to her, but if I brought that up we'd get into a massive argument that I couldn't deal with at the moment. If I engaged, I'd have many regrets. Meryl's snide question was irksome. She was basically calling a sorcerer's lifelong journey pointless just because we didn't have the power to awaken a comatose person. "If you think you can do better, then you 'do something' for her," I challenged.

"I'm only half," she retorted with narrowed eyes.

"Sorcerer blood still runs through your veins," I countered. "Why don't _you_ show me some useful sorcery?"

Meryl huffed and rolled her eyes and then left.

I loved whenever I could put her in her place after taking her flak.

Speaking of Meryl the fairy, where was she? Wasn't her mission done yet? We desperately needed her _now_. I could lose Addie any moment. Is that what she wanted? Did she want my wife to die? Meryl promised to be there when we most expected her. But was she here? No. Was she there on the battlefield when Addie was in trouble, like Meryl said she would be before we left the Aisnan Valley years ago? No! How could Meryl do such a thing? I remembered Addie telling me what Meryl told her about the sisterly love still remaining as a fairy. They were clearly empty words. If Meryl still loved Addie so much then why didn't she leave her mission to be with my Addie? How could Meryl do such a thing?

If only I weren't a mere sorcerer. Why did I have to be so weak? If only I had more power! It was just like when the Gray Death infected Meryl; I was powerless to stop it. I was powerless then as I am now, and it was infuriating. At least the Gray Death had a cure. There was nothing I could do about this.

Surveying her sleeping body, I remembered the unborn baby. I looked at Milton in horror. "Milton, she's with child. What about the baby?" I asked, placing a hand on her lower abdomen.

Milton didn't look up. His long sigh gave him away. "The baby is..." He stopped. "I'm sorry, Prince Rhys. I did everything I could."

The councilors left to give me privacy, which I appreciated. I did not want them to see me at my weakest.

A lump formed in my throat. "No," I croaked. My eyes instantly flooded with tears. This couldn't be happening. I was banished from my own kind, my daughter started a war on two fronts, my wife was comatose, and now I had lost a child. Could I be brought any lower? I was barely hanging on the end of my rope. Holding my forehead, I broke down in a fit of sobs. I didn't care if Milton or R.J. saw.

My compassionate son immediately hugged me. His simple gesture of support during this dark time meant the world to me. I was glad he was my son and that he had absorbed all that I taught him about loving and helping one another. At least I had succeeded with one child, and at least he was destined to be king.

Now I knew what my human parents felt when they would lose a baby. Parents should never bury their offspring, especially not by themselves. I had eagerly awaited its arrival for naught. It was as if a part of me died... but in a sense that was true. Dropping to my knees, I buried my wet face into her lower abdomen, where the baby would have been. During all of her pregnancies, I would do the same to feel the baby's kicks and shifts, or possibly hear its heartbeat, but not with this one. I never got the chance to feel its kicks or watch it grow inside Addie's stomach. I felt robbed of such privilege.

Then my next thought stunned me. How was Addie going to handle the news? She loved babies. I knew for a fact she was ecstatic about having another, even though it was an unplanned pregnancy. I didn't want to be the one to bring her terrible news, but I knew it had to be me. After all, without me, she wouldn't have been with child. I dreaded watching her cry. But then I remembered her comatose state and felt my stomach churn from realizing how most comatose people in Bamarre didn't... didn't survive.

How did she lose consciousness anyway? I wanted answers, even if they were dreadful. Breaking away from R.J., I took two big breaths to compose myself before speaking. "Milton, how did this happen? How did she lose consciousness?"

"Her Majesty was bludgeoned by an ogre from behind. According to the knights, the blow wasn't meant for her, but a glancing strike from an ogre is no small thing. She was instantly knocked unconscious," he explained. "And not long after that, she miscarried, presumably from crashing on her stomach from the blow."

If only I had been there to protect her! Now she was stuck in an uncertain slumber for who knew how long. And she could possibly— "When will she awaken?" I asked, trying to compose myself.

Milton shrugged. "It takes as long as it takes," he answered.

I hated that response. Addie told me about how waiting for me to mend on Mount Ziriat drove her insane. What goes around comes around.

"Sometimes it takes days, sometimes, in worst case scenarios, it takes months," he added.

Months? Months! I couldn't possibly wait _that_ long. I didn't want the crown. Not now, not ever. I wished R.J. was eighteen so he could rule instead. But the fear of ruling was outweighed by the fear of losing my soulmate and the pain of losing my child. I wanted Addie to wake up more than anything else. I had never wanted something so desperately. The thought of being wed to a vegetable was heartwrenching. There was no guarantee that she would live that long, either. We were promised a hundred years. No! It couldn't be! My Addie was too strong to die this early. Even in slumber she would refuse to succumb. I saw a thousand images of Addie— Addie on our wedding day, Addie practicing in the training ground, Addie touching clouds as I took her flying, Addie laughing with our daughters, Addie giggling with me in the wee hours of the morning under the bedclothes, Addie in my arms, Addie's lips against mine. Addie humble, Addie loving, Addie strong. _Addie_.

I glanced at the anemones and squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't stand the sight of those wretched flowers. My sense of propriety wore down. I needed some kind of release from all the built up rage and sorrow I felt inside. I snatched the vase, heaved my arm back, and hurled the bouquet against the wall. The sight and sound of it shattering was gratifying. The temporary sense of power was what I needed, even if it was small. At that point, I'd take anything.

"That's enough, Prince Rhys," Bella said quietly, yet firmly. "Smashing a vase against a wall will not wake Her Majesty."

She was right, but it still felt good. My volatile behavior was probably scaring the servants, though.

Moments later, a servant informed me that the councilors needed my presence at a meeting. Groaning, I followed him to the chamber. I didn't want anything to do with Bamarre's politics, especially not during wartime. Back when I worked for Lionel, I attended all the council meetings, so at least I knew what transpired. But of course, back then I didn't make any decisions for the kingdom; I just listened and learned. Nonetheless, I would attend and do my best.

In the council chamber, we discussed the impact the war was causing on the people. The monster army was growing fiercer now that the specters had joined. Our numbers were rapidly decreasing. I had no choice but to issue a writ of conscription to every able man in Bamarre. As more men were drafted, there was a demand for more war supplies, like weapons and armor. War was expensive, and as a result, I had no choice but to raise taxes. I didn't want to do that to the common man. After all, I was one of them long ago. I remembered how much we struggled to survive back when I lived as a commoner with my parents. I remembered how much the common folk (myself included) hated when taxes increased.

Within mere days I was told by informants how much the people despised me for making those decisions. They told me one man said I was the worst leader Bamarre has ever seen, and one woman said I didn't care about the humans because I was a sorcerer. They were wrong. They didn't realize that I was raised by humans and that I had been banished by the sorcerers. Did my marriage to a human not speak louder? I supposed not. Some other villagers said they wanted to start a revolution because Bamarre shouldn't be run by another species, and others accused the sorcerers of trying to take over Bamarre. I wished the humans understood how much I cared for them and how I wanted to save Bamarre from the mess my reckless daughter had caused. If I could sacrifice myself to save them, I would.

The councilors advised me not to fight on the battlefield. Who would rule if I died? They wanted to keep me safe at the castle with my heirs. I didn't like the idea of leaving others to fight on the battlefield while I warmed me feet by the fireplace, and apparently, neither did my daughter, Meryl. I could tell because every time she saw me, her face reddened and then she'd wheel away. That told me Meryl had hope that Addie would awaken, because she remembered Addie's threat if she found out about her misbehavior toward me.

As I was reading a war tactics book in my study, a distressed Rosie burst through the door, crying. Holding a cushion, she hurried to my side, away from the door, and cowered.

Fearing a monster might have infiltrated the castle, I asked, "Dearheart, what's wrong?"

"Meryl," she whimpered, staring at the door with fearful anticipation.

Meryl came rushing in, mad as a dragon. "Give it back!" She stomped over to Rosie.

Before my volatile daughter could harm my docile daughter, I stood and shielded Rosie. "What is going on? Why are you yelling?" I asked.

"Rosie stole my cushion," she replied, pointing. "Mother made it for _me_, not her!"

Curious, I observed the cushion to see which one it was. I saw an embroidered dragon battling Merry, and on top it read "Merry the warrior princess." It was the one Addie gave her for her last birthday. Of course, Addie didn't think depicting a battle scene between Merry and a dragon would inspire her to actually kill one.

Rosie tightened her hold on the cushion. "You weren't using it," she said. "If you didn't want anyone to use it, then you shouldn't have left it on the couch."

"No! You shouldn't steal other people's things!" Merry moved around me and grabbed her cushion and pulled.

Rosie wouldn't let go.

"Let go, you brat!" Merry screamed. Then she slapped Rosie.

I gasped and then jerked the cushion from both of them. Watching two of my loves quarrel was unsettling. "Stop it, both of you!" I yelled. Normally, Addie was the one who broke up their fights, but now I had to do it. I looked at Rosie. "If you know something doesn't belong to you, then don't use it." Next, I glowered at Merry. "And you, do not hit people! Violence is not the answer to a conflict."

Merry narrowed her eyes. "Yes, Father, you would know all about not using violence as you send hundreds of men to die while you sit on your _royal _backside!"

She was trying to shift the subject on me to get out of her punishment. "We are not discussing me, we are discussing what _you_ have done."

"You send hundreds to die while you stay at home and do nothing. Where's the honor in that, you coward? You're no different than Grandfather."

What a low thing to say, I thought. We had informed her of the truth about her grandfather, yet she still thought him a coward. Unbelievable. But how could she have the gall to lecture me on honor, and how could she think me a coward? She was the reason why I was studying the boring book in the first place! I clenched my fists and teeth as I flashed her a livid glare that could pierce steel. My patience was already stretched to its limit from all the built up stress. She was the last person I could tolerate right now. I flew to her and stopped two feet in front of her. "Honor," I blurted. "Yes, let's talk about honor, since clearly you have none."

"If you would let me fight, I would have honor," she retorted, arms crossed.

"I cannot have you fight in this war. You're too young and you're an heir to the throne." And thank the stars she was second in line.

"No, it's because you don't want me to look better than you," she spat. "You don't want me accomplishing great things because it'll make you look bad because you're a coward. It's all about yourself!"

How could she say that? Everything I did was for others. "That's not true!" I countered. "What do _you_ know about selflessness? You go out and kill innocent beings for fun!"

"You're useless and a poltroon!" she snapped. "What good is your magic if you can't even revive Mother?" That was too far. My blood boiled. I already felt useless. I didn't need others, especially my offspring, reminding me. Also, I brought her into the world; I deserved more respect.

"All you can do is manipulate your stupid clou—"

My patience snapped and my reasoning dissipated. I slapped Meryl's face with all my might. Staggering back from the blow, she tripped and crashed against the floor. I had had it with her constant disrespect. If my calm words and diplomatic reasoning wouldn't work, then I would use force to make my point. Force was the only language she knew, therefore I would convey my message with such.

Holding her reddening cheek, she stared at me with disbelief. I had never struck her that hard in her life. I must have slapped the snide remarks out of her because she didn't speak. Had I broken her overinflated ego? I hoped so.

Yanking her from the ground, I snarled in her face, "Do not forget, I am your father and sovereign! I will not stand for such impudence from a brat like you!" No one had ever heard me shout at that magnitude. The loudness of my voice surprised even me. "I've gone through more pain now than I ever have in almost a hundred years and it's all because of you!"

She still held her cheek. I wondered if she was listening.

"You've ruined _everything_ for me! My apprenticeship is over because of you, I'm now regent during wartime because of you, and as a result, many innocent people have died. I lost an unborn baby because of you, and lastly, my wife is comatose because of _you_!" I shouted. I felt my eyelids sting. "You are my seed," I said emphatically, using my other hand, "I kept you alive as an infant, I nurtured you, and I love you to the stars and back, and all I get in return is a sharp tongue and a sour attitude!" I felt pressure in my head from tensing and shouting. "But of course none of that means anything to you because you're an ungrateful monster," I said, voice lowered. I squeezed her arm and she winced. I had never been that furious in my life. Not even the masters or the prejudiced villagers had pushed me that far.

At that point I didn't care if she was my daughter. Meryl crossed the line by disrespecting Bamarre's prince regent. Addie threatened to banish her if she disrespected me, so I would deal a similar punishment. I viciously held Meryl's arms behind her back with my arm and pulled her through the corridors. She struggled in vain against my vicelike grip all the way to the dungeon.

"Let me go!" she protested.

I ignored her as I swung open a cell door and threw her in.

Meryl tripped and fell prostrate.

As she rolled over, I slammed the door shut.

She grasped the bars and cried, "What are you doing?"

"I'm doing what your mother should have done," I replied. "You started this war, and now I have to finish it." I hovered directly in front of her and glowered. "I can only pray that the crown will never rest upon your head. You would choke Bamarre with your bloodlust, just to prove yourself to the world," I growled. I had said all I needed. Using my baton, I melted the keyhole to her cell so that no one would let her escape. Meryl had too many soldier friends for me to trust that she would remain confined. For good measure, I melted the hinges, too.

"Father," she whimpered.

I wasn't falling for it. She used crying as a way to manipulate others. Often times she would deliver her harmful words or actions, and then when she was made to suffer the consequences, she would cry to lessen the punishment. It was a tactic of hers that worked on her friends and siblings, not on me anymore.

I was done there. Despite what the councilors suggested, I decided to re-enter the battlefield to rid myself of the pain I felt. With the help of the seven-league boots, I arrived in no time.


	18. Chapter 18: Victory for Bamarre!

**Chapter 18: Victory for Bamarre!**

The war-torn battlefield was stained crimson and reeked of rotting flesh mixed with a pungent odor that was best described as salty rust. I had never seen so many dead bodies in my life. There were swarms of flies buzzing around the maggot-infested human and monster corpses and many vultures circled in the late afternoon sky. My level of respect for soldiers rose. This was not a duty for the weak. To kill someone in combat took strength, and it took strength to endure the horror of witnessing bloodshed by your own hand. Perhaps Meryl was right about me. Maybe I really was weak but in denial. No. I couldn't think like that. Not while Bamarre needed me most. I would fake my confidence until I believed it.

My men fought on in vain for days. Bamarre's monster infestation was too great for the lesser human army. I was forcing these good men to die for nothing. Should I surrender? I thought. Of course not. Addie would never surrender, and while she remained comatose, it was my duty to rule accordingly. But what if my surrender brought peace? What was I thinking? They were blood-thirsty monsters. Peace was a foreign concept to them. Even if I surrendered, they would still exterminate the humans and sorcerers and then move on to the elves and dwarfs. Jafe wanted revenge, the monsters wanted a feast, and the specters wanted to expand their domain. Why couldn't it have been a war against another human kingdom, one that could be reasoned with? I feared I would have to write a plea of help to the elves and dwarfs. I didn't want to bring other kingdoms into my war for the sake of their people, but my kingdom's numbers were rapidly dwindling. The humans and sorcerers desperately needed a miracle.

I came close to hating my daughter—as close as a parent could toward their own flesh. On second thought, hatred wasn't the right word. I greatly resented her for creating a catastrophe I had to mend and possibly die from. I thought we raised her better than that. It was partially my fault, though. I should have disciplined her harder at a younger age. Addie was the main disciplinarian because I despised conflict. In the long run, I did myself no favors by sparing the rod figuratively. If I lived through the ordeal, that would change.

I saw Jafe on land about a mile away, flaming at my knights. I ached for those poor brave knights who were roasted alive in their suits of armor. I jetted as fast as I could and was in front of him in no time. It was time to put an end to the war, an end to my kingdom's suffering.

He flamed at me and missed, for I zigzagged straight up to the clouds. I didn't want anyone else to get hurt while we dueled.

The dragon pursued close behind, flaming the entire time, making me wonder if they ever ran out of fire as I felt my armor heat to a scorching temperature.

When we reached two miles above sea level, I turned around and flew downward, over Jafe's head and back. My goal was to fly over his back to distract him while I whipped underneath and back up to stab his torso.

With his long serpentine neck, he followed my movement, and flipped around. Jafe was too slow, though. I managed to impale his chest all the way to Blood-biter's hilt. Victory!

The leader of the monster forces shrieked, but then his shrieks died down into low, chiming bells.

Did it not work? It wasn't a specter because he didn't vanish.

"Did you really think that would kill me?" he asked condescendingly.

I was too shocked to move. I thought a blow to the heart would kill him like it did to Yune in _Drualt_.

Jafe grabbed me, squeezing the air from my lungs, and held me up to his face. His grasp was so tight and powerful that if I had worn no armor protection, he would have crushed my bones and organs. I was glad I relented and wore my full suit of armor. The searing heat from his scales warmed my metal armor so much I felt nauseated and dizzy. If I hadn't drunk any water during the day, I would have overheated instantly, but if I remained in his grasp for too much longer, I would overheat any moment.

"Wretched scum," he spat. "The specter king and I are now one. In exchange for exterminating the humanoid species, he has granted this body immortality. No weapon of yours can defeat me." He paused. Mockingly, he shouted, "Long live the humans and sorcerers!" Bringing me closer, Jafe opened his enormous mouth. I was forced to breathe in the foul stench of smoke and metallic bile. I dry heaved—the worst kind. The added heat from his breath was the last straw; I overheated.

This was it. I would be stabbed and crushed to death by enormous dragon teeth and there was nothing I could do about it. As I winced, preparing myself for the agony to come, I thought of how my children were going to be fatherless.

I'm sorry, my precious loves, I thought. I tried...

Suddenly, Jafe shrieked in agony. Whatever it was, it made him loosen his hold on me.

As I fell from the sky, Henry managed to catch me and yelped from touching my sweltering armor before I had the chance to crash to the ground. So Henry cared about me, after all. Seeing him come to my aid on the battlefield rekindled my trust in him. Setting me down, Henry darted back into the sky to resume battling Jafe. Henry managed to stab under a toenail, prompting the dragon to yelp again.

While Jafe bent over to collect Henry, Orne came from above, out of Jafe's peripheral vision, and stabbed his eye.

The dragon's temper reached its peak. Enraged, Jafe flamed and roared in all directions, almost catching Henry and Orne.

"Tend to Rhys!" Orne boomed.

"What about you?" Henry shouted, not wanting to abandon his comrade.

"I'll hold him off!" he replied, conjuring a thunderstorm by raising his hands above his head.

Henry landed beside me and, with much difficulty, started unbuckling my searing armor so I could cool down. He had to take pauses every few seconds.

Looking above at the aerial fray, I saw Jafe flaming at Orne, and then Orne directing a lightning bolt, striking his foe's back. He got him! Then I remembered what the dragon told me and frowned. It wasn't enough to kill him, not with a specter living inside of him.

Jafe's body language weakened. He halted all attacks and retreated. At least that would give us a break and a chance to regroup.

Once Orne and Henry carried my limp body to my camp, they continued to remove my stifling armor and under padding, leaving me with just my drenched under tunic and hose. Orne told Henry to stand back before conjuring a chilling spell on me.

Minutes later, I felt my core temperature drop to normal, and I regained strength. Slowly, I sat up on my own.

"How do you feel?" asked Orne, still using the chilling spell.

"Much better, thank you," I replied.

He stopped the spell.

Now that they were here, I wanted to know how things were back at the citadel. "How is the citadel?" I asked, fearing the worst.

Orne met eyes with mine. "It's in ruins," he replied solemnly. "The gryphons and Jafe have invaded our fortified city. So many sorcerers have died..." He stopped. For a moment I thought I saw a tear forming. "The masters have resorted to using forbidden magic to protect our haven." Orne shook his head.

Forbidden magic? I thought all forms of forbidden magic were disposed of after Queen Myra's reign. "What kind of forbidden magic?" I asked.

Orne stared at me apprehensively, debating whether or not to tell me. "It's powerful magic that could even give fairies a minor challenge. It certainly cannot defeat them, mind you—just give them somewhat of a challenge."

"But I thought we didn't have enough power," I questioned, now intrigued. A minor challenge for a fairy was a major spell for a mortal.

"Sorcerers are stronger than what we let you believe. We want apprentices to believe that until they reach maturity. The Sorcerian books are loaded with dangerous magic. I, myself, can do more than you think I can. You think commanding a mile of clouds is amazing, well that's nothing compared to what I can really do."

I couldn't believe it. All that time they lied to me. "Why do they keep it a secret?"

Orne put his hands on his hips. Here comes a lecture, I thought. "Rhys, do you really think it would be wise for apprentices to have access to dangerous magic? There would be revolts and wars." He shook his head, imagining the scenario. "It would be a complete disaster."

I nodded in agreement. It was a good point. Some apprentices were immature (to me, at least). "So what exactly is this forbidden magic you speak of?" I inquired, expecting a vague answer or none at all.

"Under other circumstances, I would not tell you, but since you are the only one crazy enough to use the power to save us, I came to teach you its art." He paused. "Think, it will give you a chance to redeem your name. You will be remembered as a hero instead of a rogue."

The offer sounded great. I wanted to redeem myself, and by doing whatever he proposed, it would give me a clean slate. However, my name was not the main reason why I wanted to volunteer. Saving my kingdom and my kind was my main priority. I'd still do it even if the sorcerers told my banishment tale for millennia to come.

But would the magic really be enough? The scourge of Bamarre was invincible. "How is it supposed to work? Jafe is now invincible. He has joined with the specter king to wipe out humanity and sorcerers. Nothing can stop him," I said miserably, sitting down on my cot. I felt defeated.

Orne stared at me. He knew something I didn't. "What if I told you there was a spell that could summon the phoenix?" he asked, head tilted.

Impossible. How can that be? And how could a mortal be able to gather enough power to do such a thing? I opened my mouth, ready to voice my skepticism only to be interrupted.

"But the price is great. That is why it's forbidden. Remember how Queen Myra accessed the power and died?"

"Can we really do that?" I asked skeptically. "I thought that magic was destroyed and long forgotten."

"That's what we tell you apprentices," he said. "It's the most powerful spell known to sorcerers... and it will be the last one he ever conjures."

A chill crawled down my spine. Up to that point, I had no idea just how powerful sorcerers really were. It was all a shock to me. I didn't know what to say for a whole minute. Eventually, I wanted to know more about the spell. "How is it done?"

"As an apprentice, you cannot do it alone," Orne answered. He patted his chest. "I will help you if that's what you wish."

I fell to my knees, clasping my hands dramatically. "Please tell me, Orne. I'm begging you," I beseeched. I desperately wanted to end the war, and summoning the phoenix would grant just that.

"You're willing to die in order to defeat your enemy?" he asked impassively.

"If it will save the humans and sorcerers, then yes."

Orne stared at me for a long time, so long I wondered if he had the ability to see through me. "Very well," he spoke. "I shall teach you the spell."

I touched my clasped hands to my forehead. "Thank you, Orne." I got off the ground and sat on the cot again, waiting for his instruction.

Orne taught me the ancient incantation, step by step. The first step was to say in Sorcerian, "Phoenix, I invite your power in." If spoken properly, one's life flame would roar. The sorcerer would then make lightning strike themselves. Next, one would say in Sorcerian, "Grant me your power!" The phoenix would appear and grant the sorcerer's wish. After the wish was granted, one's flame would expand throughout their body and would scorch him or her from the inside out. The sorcerer would burn to a pile of ashes in exchange for ultimate power.

"Do you still want to use the power?" Orne asked.

"Yes," I replied, nodding my head with conviction. "Either way, I'll die. If I do nothing, I'll eventually die. If I do it, at least millions will live. There's been enough bloodshed in Bamarre," I said. "I want to put an end to the killing now by sacrificing myself."

Orne shook his head slowly with disbelief. "After all the years we scoffed at you, mocked you, belittled you, and even after we forsook you, you're willing to die for us?"

I stared at him with determined eyes. I nodded. "Yes."

"Incredible..." he uttered. Orne drifted to me and put a hand on my shoulder. That was the most affection I'd ever seen from him. That gesture alone told me how much he did care for me. "I wish I could claim this enigmatic loving characteristic of yours that will ultimately save us, but I cannot. I remember trying to rid you of your loving nature that your human parents ingrained into you, but now I'm glad you ignored me." Was Orne showing humility? I couldn't believe it. For a sickening moment I thought perhaps he was a specter, but then I quickly removed the thought from my head.

I had to say what was on my mind that I'd wanted to say to all sorcerers over the years. "Perhaps love isn't the weakness you think it is. Love is strength. The sorcerers could achieve even greater things if they knew love and humility."

I wished I knew what he was thinking. His face was unreadable. He just stared and blinked. I was expecting him to argue, but he didn't. He was probably shocked into silence at my taboo statement he now realized was true.

We heard Jafe's trumpeting roars in the distance. The dragon was back for another round, flying toward us a few miles away.

All three of us rushed out of the tent, Orne leading into the sky.

About six feet in the air, Henry grabbed my arm, holding me back.

I looked over my shoulder at him, wondering why he stopped me.

"Rhys..." He paused, thinking of the appropriate words. "Thank you... my friend. I'm sorry I abandoned you before. I was stunned into silence, but I learned my lesson and vowed to never do that again."

I bore him no ill will. My parents had taught me how to forgive any wrong-doing. I smiled and quickly hugged Henry, for it would be our last—my last. I wished my last embrace was with Addie, but it would have to do.

I released Henry and rocketed into the sky to catch up to Orne.

My former teacher had already started making dark clouds billow. Flashes of lightning flickered within the clouds as Orne waved his arms upward. "Rhys, it's time!" he bellowed.

For a second I forgot the words. Petrified, I hovered in place.

"Speak the incantation!"

As I watched Jafe fly at us, leading a battalion of gryphons, I remembered the incantation. I chanted the first portion and felt my flame roar. I had never felt that way in my life. I felt invigorated. Orne had said that the burning from within would enhance my powers.

Orne conjured a lightning bolt and guided it to strike my chest. The electrifying jolt felt like a group of ogres hurled a gigantic boulder at me. After the dull ache was gone, my flame burned hotter and wider. I felt the flames licking my insides, all the way to my appendages. The pain I felt from Arch Master Enoch destroying a tiny portion of my brain paled in comparison. Getting burned from the inside out was worse than enduring external burns. I emitted a lengthy scream.

"Rhys, finish the incantation!" shouted Orne.

I did as he commanded. I finished the incantation with much difficulty.

The flames ate through my flesh and consumed me. I screamed again as I fell. My descent to the ground was swift and painful. It didn't matter, though. It would all be over within moments.

The parting dark gray clouds shone gold as a giant flaming phoenix descended from the heavens and hovered above me, wings flapping slowly. Due to its brightness, I had to narrow my eyes to look upon the creature. Its red, yellow, and orange body was blinding, so much that I could not accurately gauge its size. From where I rested, it looked half the size of a female dragon. I couldn't find the right words to describe the majestic bird other than it was a fire-plumed peacock. It gazed at me and inquired, "What dost thou wish, sorcerer?"

His deep, sonorous voice thrummed in my being. I knew I was in the presence of an almighty entity.

"I wish..." I began, formulating my words properly and as best I could under the agonizing circumstances. "I wish to vanquish all monsters in Bamarre." Mentioning the monsters made me remember the charging monsters in the distance. Dropping my head to the side, I saw the horde frozen in time.

The phoenix landed before my feet. It raised and shook its tail. Its long, fiery feathers shimmered and fanned out, sending out an inferno in every direction. "Done," it said.

"Victory for Bamarre..." I could no longer breathe, and I no longer felt the fire scorch my skin. My vision blurred and then blackened. Even though I was consumed by flames, my flame within extinguished, and I breathed my last.


	19. Chapter 19: Heart of Flame

**Chapter 19: Heart of Flame**

"Rhys..." the phoenix's voice boomed and echoed. "Arise!"

Feeling a flame ignite above my breastbone, and sucking in a breath, I opened my eyes and saw the phoenix flying above me. I blinked a few times to clear my vision. Taking my first breath felt refreshing. Suffocation was the scariest sensation I had ever felt, and I hoped it would never happen again.

I remembered being consumed by flames, yet my body felt unscathed. It was as though I never went through the horrendous ordeal. I pulled myself into a sitting position and noticed my scorched rags dangling over raggedy burned skin, though I felt no pain. I gasped sharply and felt my stomach churn. Suddenly, my skin healed rapidly and my clothes mended. My new skin looked healthier than ever, and then I quickly panicked and touched my brow to make sure it wasn't healed. Good, it's still there, I thought. It was a very special scar to me because it was a reminder of the night I proposed to Addie.

It didn't make sense. Why was I alive? Did I not speak the incantation correctly? Did Jafe win? "I-I don't understand," I said, observing my hand. "Why am I alive?"

Flapping its wings slowly in the golden sky, it replied, "Thy wish was selfless. Thou wouldst endure a painful death to save the multitudes. Hadst thou wished for personal gain, I would have allowed thee to crumble to ashes. But thou art fully rejuvenated."

I shuddered at the idea of burning to a pile of ashes, remembering Queen Myra's death. I then understood why she died. The wicked queen wished for personal gain and was deemed unworthy. The masters believed using the phoenix's power would result in death no matter what. I had no intentions of telling them otherwise. History could repeat itself, and they more than likely wouldn't believe an apprentice. I rose in the air without difficulty.

"Instead, I chose to grant thee new life so that thou mayst continue living in a land where more such as thee are needed," he said. "Thou art the first sorcerer I have seen who thought of others before thyself, and I applaud thee, young one. Thou shalt make a fine master someday. Perhaps thou shalt bringeth change to the sorcerers' view of love."

The gracious complement from the sorcerers' revered supernatural being meant the world to me. Smiling, I rose higher and bowed.

The phoenix sprung into the air and flapped its wings. "Farewell, my chosen one. I shall watch thee from afar."

As I watched the phoenix fly away into the distance, the golden sky faded into its normal blue color. I still couldn't grasp what had happened. _I_ had spoken to a phoenix and was granted a wish, and it had named me as its chosen one. What would the masters think?

Orne and Henry joined me in the air. Henry looked reverent and Orne gave half a smile, something I had never seen before.

"That was amazing, Rhys! The phoenix granted your wish and resurrected you," he stated excitedly. "I've never seen anything like it." He paused, remembering the majestic scene. "The phoenix, our sacred bird, named _you_ his chosen one!" His astonished face made me laugh.

"Well done, Rhys," Orne congratulated, interrupting Henry's raving. "Thanks to your loving flame, Bamarre is saved. You have made all sorcerers proud... especially me." For the first time, my emotionless, taciturn teacher smiled broadly and embraced me! Did the phoenix resurrect him into a loving person? He broke the embrace and held my shoulders. "All the monsters in Bamarre were annihilated." Orne dropped his hands.

For years Addie tried negotiating with the barbaric ogres, but to no avail. Even with a captive, the ogres still terrorized our villages. With all the fatalities from the builders who tried building roads to crowd the monsters out, no one was brave enough to move into Mulee Forest. Addie didn't want to keep sending workers to their deaths, so she relented. Feeding the gryphons would have been an impossible feat. There was no way, even with the magic tablecloth, we could have gorged all the gryphons to death. Since we couldn't find a solution from the less imposing monsters, Addie didn't even try to think of a way to drive out the dragons' loneliness. She couldn't risk the lives of others to accomplish the task. I was glad I fulfilled her deepest wish: to rid Bamarre of its monsters.

Orne put a hand on my shoulder. "Come, Rhys," he said warmly. "Let's go see Arch Master Enoch. I'm sure he would like a word with you."

I shook my head. I didn't want to see him yet. There were other, more important people in my life I needed to see first. "You go on without me. I must return to Bamarre castle to see my family."

Orne nodded understandingly. "Very well," he said, removing his hand. "I shall await your arrival at the citadel." And he was off.

Henry wet his lips. "I hope this means the sorcerers will treat you with more respect. You deserve it."

I smiled and patted his shoulder. "Thank you, Henry. I hope so too."

He bid me farewell and flew away.

Excited to see my family, I found the seven-league boots in my tent and took multiple steps to Bamarre castle. I relished the cold wind whipping against my face. Being burned alive made me appreciate the cold more. With the seven-league boots and my own aviation abilities, I arrived in no time.

As I sped through the corridors, some of my children hugged me, happy to see me home. But I wouldn't stop. I needed to see Addie, even if she was comatose. I felt compelled to tell her what had happened on the battlefield. At least I could pretend she was listening.

I entered her bedchamber and saw no one with her. Good. I wanted to be alone with Addie. I sat beside her and stroked her brow. "Addie, we won!" I exclaimed. "The monsters in Bamarre are dead. Your greatest wish has been fulfilled."

No response.

I gazed at Addie's beauty. Even in a deep sleep, she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. It didn't matter that her hair was unkempt or she wasn't dressed in a fine gown or that her face seemed dull. She was beautiful no matter what. "I wish you could have been there, my love. I saw the sorcerers' sacred fire bird, the phoenix, and it granted my wish—your wish, to annihilate all monsters in Bamarre." I paused before saying, "It wasn't easy. It was actually quite painful, but I did it for you and Bamarre." I missed her. I imagined Addie waking up and embracing me, congratulating me for fulfilling her greatest dream. I wanted her back.

Craving her lips against mine, I leaned in to kiss her ever so tenderly. Her colder than usual lips felt odd, but it was still better than nothing. I sat up straight and took her hand. "Wake up, my sweet," I begged. "I miss you."

Suddenly, Addie's gray eyes fluttered open! She was awake! Addie saw me and smiled. "Rhys," she said, sitting up to embrace me.

I responded by hugging her tightly, never wanting to let go. Eventually, though, we did.

How was this possible? I knew a simple kiss was not the actual cure.

From behind me, I heard, "Don't look at me."

I whipped my head around when I heard Meryl the fairy's voice.

Meryl leaned against the doorway, surveying her nails on one hand. "True love's kiss does amazing things, you know," she joked. The fairy put her hand down and sat on the other side of Addie's bed.

"Meryl, you're back!" Addie exclaimed happily, taking her hand. "Did you vanquish the monster army?"

I opened my mouth about to correct her, but Meryl spoke first.

"No, love. Your valiant husband did," she corrected, tucking Addie's hair behind her ear. "Drualt and I are here to pick up his mess," she teased, winking.

Appealing to me, Addie's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "How did you do it?" she asked.

I told her my tale, starting from where she missed.

"But what about Matilda's and your banishment?" Addie asked. "The masters destroyed that part of your brain."

Meryl looked at my head and smiled. "I can see that the phoenix repaired it."

Addie still looked upset. "Your brain damage may be restored, but what about the apprenticeship? As soon as you are drawn to the citadel, they'll banish you again."

"No, they won't," said Drualt the fairy as he appeared in the doorway. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll make them take you back, and this time things around the citadel will be different for you, I'll make sure of it."

I was skeptical because the masters were stubborn and egotistical. Drualt could probably read my skepticism.

"You'd be amazed how quickly the masters change their minds once a fairy pays them a visit." He laughed. "Every time I come to the citadel, Arch Master Enoch and Mistress Ambrosia practically beg to kiss my feet..." he said, raising a foot. Drualt put his foot down and twisted his head over his shoulder to look at his backside. "...and other places," he joked, facing us again.

Addie and I laughed. Ambrosia was sycophantic toward Enoch in hopes of moving up in our hierarchy, but I never fathomed that Enoch was capable of stroking someone else's ego. By the way he talked and carried himself, I thought he fancied himself as the stars' gift to sorcery.

"Besides, I just came back from telling the masters that the phoenix has deemed you worthy of its power. That hasn't happened in ten thousand years. I think they have enough reasons to treat you differently." Drualt winked, and then his face became serious. "But for good measure, I will closely watch over you every time you go to the citadel. One more offense and I'll strip them of their powers, including their flying ability—the pride of every sorcerer."

Magic and flying meant everything to a sorcerer. When I was banished, I was terrified that they would practically render me human. I could only hope that that threat would be enough for them to stop harassing me once and for all.

Addie did a "come hither" motion. Her devious expression said it all.

I leaned in for a kiss and tasted delight. I didn't care if we had an audience; I missed my wife's touch. Our kiss was long and quickly became passionate.

"Whoa, you two!" Drualt blurted. "There are people in the room," he teased.

I unwillingly broke our kiss and looked over my shoulder at him. "If you don't like what you see, then go somewhere else," I teased as I waved my hand dismissively. "Go frolic on Mount Ziriat or battle some deadly monsters."

Drualt and Meryl laughed. They held hands and were gone in two whorls of light.

I sat on the bed, where a now sitting Addie awaited, and murmured, "Where were we?"

**. . .**

Wide-eyed, Daria said, "Wow, that was amazing, Father."

I nodded with pride. "It was my greatest accomplishment," I boasted, setting the journal on my desk. "Hopefully one day someone will make up verses about my adventure. The sorcerers have already made a marble statue of me below their grand phoenix statue." Then I remembered some other details I wanted to share. "Matilda was forgiven and her brain damage was restored by Meryl the fairy so that she could come back to the citadel." My face saddened at the other detail. "Unfortunately, I had to tell your mother the terrible news about the unborn baby's fate." Then I smiled broadly as I looked at Eliza. "But it all worked out in the end."

Matilda faced Daria and added, "And since I already lived at Bamarre castle, the masters allowed me to begin my service to your mother." She shrugged excitedly. "I'm the youngest apprentice to ever have served the Bamarrian sovereign."

And it showed. Of course I knew better than to say that; that would have been rude. The masters also allowed her to begin her service to the queen because I'd be close by and there was a shortage of sorcerers after the war. Addie was lucky to have a more experienced apprentice living under her roof while Matilda was employed.

Eliza squirmed into wakefulness and wailed.

Despite Matilda's offer to pacify Eliza, I took my distressed infant into my arms and headed to my desk. I knew she was hungry, and I didn't want to wake Addie just to feed Eliza when I had chilled bottles in my desk drawers. Using a warming spell, I heated a bottle in my hand until it felt like a drinkable temperature. Not wanting my little one to burn her mouth, I tested the milk first before feeding her.

Matilda rested her chin on her hand and watched intently. Recently, the sorceress had shown a great interest in Eliza. Someday Matilda would be the mother of R.J.'s heir, the future king of Bamarre. Never in Bamarre's history did a three-fourths sorcerer reign. I already knew some humans would not be happy. At least the future sovereign would be the Eradicator's grandchild.

After Eliza was done eating, I sat the bottle down on my desk, next to my still open journal. The next entry read "The Pevir Tale." It took everything in me to resist reading the next tale, but I needed to resume my studies. I wanted to astonish Orne, but that was only going to happen if I studied hard.

Wanting to be alone for the rest of the night so I could focus solely on studying, I went over to my door to escort the ladies out. I saw an envelope sealed with the Bamarrian crest. That could only mean one thing: It was a letter from Addie. Bending over, I collected the letter and then opened the door. I politely told them I needed to retire for the night. They understood and got up from my couch. I bowed to each of them before they passed over the threshold. Once the ladies were gone, I sat Eliza down in the crib and opened the envelope. Unfolding the letter, it read:

_Dear __Prince Rhys__,_

_By order of the queen, you are to awaken Her Majesty for an urgent morning conference two hours earlier than her standard time. Failure to comply will result in __immediate disciplinary action._

_Queen Adelina of Bamarre_

She was probably still mad at me. Addie had the tendency to stay mad for hours over things I thought were minute. I wondered what kind of conference she was having that required her to wake up two hours earlier. Perhaps she planned an early morning meeting with the councilors. I hoped there was a cancellation in Addie's schedule that would allow her to spend at least half an hour with me tomorrow. I wanted to see her the most, since we hardly ever spent time with each other anymore. If I could have anything for my birthday, it would be alone time with her.

I sat down at my desk and opened the sorcery book to study.


	20. Chapter 20: My 100th Birthday

**Warning: Like Chapter 2: The Honeymoon, this chapter contains nondescript nudity and suggestive themes (but only in the beginning).**

* * *

**Chapter 20: My 100****th**** Birthday**

My clock read ten minutes till five. I needed to change into different clothes for the new day. Since it was my birthday, I wanted to wear my nicer clothes, so I changed into a white cambric shirt and black satin breeches. I buttoned a wing-sleeved, satin doublet in emerald green (my favorite color), silver, and black colors, woven in damask designs. After slipping into my black boots, I slid on a pair of engraved black leather vambraces. To complete the look, I capped myself with a black hat, plumed with white feathers. Pleased with my attire, I smiled in my full-length mirror.

When the clock struck five, someone knocked on my door. I opened the door, revealing a nursemaid. After curtsying and wishing me a happy birthday, the nursemaid told me she was there to take Eliza for the day as per Addie's instructions. I handed Eliza to the nursemaid and started for Addie's bedchamber. Even if she was still mad at me, I wanted to see her. At least we'd get to talk while she dressed for the day, and perhaps I'd get to visit with her while she ate breakfast.

Baton glowing, I entered her dark chamber and drifted to her bedside. She was sleeping on her back. "Addie," I spoke softly, "wake up."

No stir.

With a wave of my baton, I lit the candelabra on Addie's bedside table.

Still, she did not stir.

Then I had an idea. I leaned in and kissed her. I was such a romantic.

To my surprise, Addie grabbed the back of my head and tossed my hat away. Running her fingers through my hair, she deepened the kiss. Addie slid her hands to my doublet and began unbuttoning. "You don't need this," she purred as she undid the last button. Addie opened my doublet and pulled it down my shoulders to my elbows. "Or these," she added, moving on to unlacing my vambraces.

Wait a minute. She said she had an early conference. This would cause her to be late. I had to stop for the sake of her meeting (not that I wanted to). "Dearest, I thought you said you have a conference this morning?" I asked, watching her slide off my vambraces.

Tossing them aside, Addie breathed into my lips, "This is the conference."

That sly vixen! Always full of surprises—the best kinds too. And all that time I thought she was mad at me. I smirked before pulling off my doublet and white shirt. Next, I kicked off my boots and stepped out of the remainder of my clothes.

Addie stared in awe at my exposed body, which belonged to her alone. Her gawking was flattering. I still remembered the first days of our marriage how it took her a while to be able to stare at my nakedness without averting her once virginal eyes. Back then, I was afraid she'd never get used to seeing me nude. My, has she changed for the better.

My wife scooted over to the center of her large bed and opened the covers for me. "Come," she invited seductively, offering her hand, "so I may love you ever so tenderly."

Taking her hand, I slid into the covers and noticed she wore a short see-through nightdress... and nothing else. That would not do. If she required indecency from me, then hers had to go too. It was only fair. "You're wearing this?" I asked, tugging at the hem of her nightdress.

"Yes," she replied in mock innocence.

"Take it off," I ordered seductively.

"You can't give me orders. I am your queen," she played along, sitting up. Addie grabbed the hem and pulled it over her head, throwing the unwanted garment elsewhere. Much better. She crawled on all fours above me and asked, "May I pleasure you this morning?"

I smiled, remembering how I asked her the same question on our honeymoon. "Of course, dear wife." I made the flames on the candelabra burn a soft romantic blue.

...And it began in the marriage bed. My first birthday present of the day. If that was my first present, then the rest of my day was going to be phenomenal. I was the luckiest male in Bamarre to be offered to share the beautiful queen's bed.

When it was over, we held each other close as we basked in the afterglow. Addie snuggled under my arm, leaning against my chest, and looked urgently into my eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, offering her hand.

I knew what she wanted. I took her hand and intertwined our fingers.

"You were right. I've been neglecting you these past months and it needs to stop. You were my husband years before I was crowned. The councilors will no longer control me; I am not their puppet. _I_ rule the kingdom. Today I am yours in every sense."

I was thrilled that she decided to put her foot down. I kissed her as a thank you.

After speaking sweet nothings to each other for a moment longer, Addie said there was more in store for me, so we got dressed and headed for the dining hall. Addie wore my favorite color on her: crimson. The low-cut dress she chose had golden leaves and vines embroidered in the middle panel and laced in the front to accentuate her figure, and the sleeves widened at the ends. Addie twisted her long braided hair into a bun. She looked ravishing.

I wondered where the children were, but then Addie told me the nursemaids would take care of them until tonight so we could spend the day together. Spending the day with her was the greatest gift she could give. When asked, Addie told me Chancellor Desmond would handle all political decisions for a day. The second thing she had on my birthday agenda was to take me somewhere away from the castle. She wouldn't say where, though, leaving me in anxious anticipation. We packed various things, such as a blanket, the seven-league boots, the magic tablecloth, and a medium-sized gift box I assumed was for me. I offered to fly us there, but she refused because she said it would take too long. Once we stepped outside, we swapped our normal footwear out for the seven-league ones. Addie said we were heading south.

South? That was in the direction of Mulee Forest. I knew the existing specters at that time were destroyed two years ago, but why would we go to the eerie forest on such a special day? I knew better than to question her motives. The queen of gift-giving probably had something spectacular planned.

We took the appropriate amount of steps until we were close enough to the forest. I saw Addie remove her boot. I took the hint. Removing my boot, I stuffed it into the sack and waited for Addie's lead.

She headed away from the Mulee, in the direction I had flown her when she had her first adventure. I knew where she wanted to go.

"Let me fly us there, my sweet," I insisted eagerly. "It will be faster." I hoped Addie would consider my suggestion. I wanted to hold her in my arms again. "Besides, I want to hold you close to my flame."

My wife hesitated, but then relented. She pressed her hip against my thigh and wound her arms around my neck. "Even after what transpired this morning, you still want to hold me?"

I didn't know why she was asking; she knew the answer. After nearly twenty years, it should not have puzzled her. "You know how much I love holding you close," I said, smiling. "I would hold you for an entire day and night, if I could."

Addie smiled back at me.

I lifted her into my arms and flew to the small lake I had shown her years ago. During our sweet flight, the sun peeked over the trees. Its golden rays spread across the land. I landed on the hillside that overlooked the lake. The lake still reflected the sky but instead of being the home of two swans like years ago, there was a whole flock of them. And instead of a line of cherry trees marching up the hill, the entire lakeshore was surrounded by the pink blossomed trees. My eyes caught a glimpse of something that was missing the last time I visited: a white gazebo, wrapped in ivy and hanging lavender wisteria.

Addie stood away from me and spread her arms. "Isn't it fine, Rhys?" she asked exactly how I did years ago. "I had gardeners come here to plant more trees, and of course I had a fairy's touch to make certain plants grow faster. Apparently, the swans like it too."

The lake's beauty rendered me speechless. I couldn't stop gazing at the scenery.

Chuckling, Addie took my hand. "Come on, let's sit on the shore and watch the swans."

We spread the blanket and sat down. We watched the many swans swimming and flapping with one another. A swan family caught my attention. It was a mother, father, and seven cygnets. Pointing, I said, "Look, it's us!"

Addie followed my finger and chuckled. "A mated couple for life, swimming alongside their seven little ones. That's definitely our family," she agreed, nodding.

After watching the swans for a while longer, Addie pulled out the gift box and sat it down between us. "Open it," she said excitedly. "It's from me."

"Another one?" I asked incredulously. "I thought the 'conference' was your gift."

She laughed at my name for it. "I fully intend to spoil you rotten today," she said. Her smile weakened as her eyes lowered. "After all, this will probably be the only major birthday of yours I will get to celebrate."

Addie was right. My next major birthday was next century. If only she was guaranteed to live that long so she could be there when I graduate from my apprenticeship... Oh, well. I knew that would happen when I proposed.

She perked back up. "Open it," she urged again.

Untying the bow, I took off the lid and a rainbow of butterflies flew to the sky. There must have been a hundred of them. A hundred—clever. At the bottom of the box rested a folded note. I unfolded the note, revealing an excerpt from a poem I didn't recognize.

"It's from the epic poem _Heart of Flame_, by Rhys junior and myself."

Someone actually wrote a poem about my adventure? I couldn't believe it! "Let's hear it," I said, gesturing at Addie. It meant the world to me that my wife and son collaborated to write about how I saved Bamarre. I would thank R.J. as soon as possible.

The queen stood and began.

"Banished, Rhys the sorcerer

Left the citadel.

Downtrodden and alone,

He went home

To his beloved,

Bamarre's Princess Adelina,

His doughty warrior, and their heirs."

Such passion. She may have not been as good as Meryl the fairy, but the words were meaningful, especially to me. "Now the poem speaks of the Great Monster War after Father's death," she said.

"The brave sorcerer and his consort,

The Eradicator, fought on

Until Queen Adelina

Fell in battle.

Rhys the sorcerer

Was named regent of

The war-torn land of Bamarre."

Addie paused quickly to take another breath.

"Despised by many, he still fought

For the scoffers,

For the ungrateful,

For the unworthy.

If given the chance

To save the scoffers,

The ungrateful, and unworthy,

Rhys the loving,

Would have readily accepted.

I had to keep from smirking at the joy I felt. I still couldn't believe Addie wrote something in my honor.

"The sorcerers Orne and Henry

Fought Jafe,

The scourge of Bamarre,

But it was not enough,

For the dragon became

One with the specter king

To annihilate humans and sorcerers.

Rhys the loving

Was given the chance

To save Bamarre

By sacrificing himself."

Addie paused briefly before continuing. "Now the poem speaks of your decision." Addie raised her hand and gestured downward to symbolize lightning.

"Struck by lightning,

His flame roared

Fiercer than a dragon

Until his entirety

Was consumed in the inferno.

He summoned the phoenix,

The sorcerers' sacred bird

And wished to destroy all monsters.

The phoenix accepted his selfless wish."

Remembering what happened, I inwardly cringed.

"Shrieking, the flames licked his skin

And then his insides,

Until Prince Rhys the loving

Breathed his last and his inner flame

Burned no more."

Addie hung her head to emphasize how dire the situation was at the time. She slowly pulled herself up.

"Sucking in a breath—

A breath of life,

Rhys arose from the ashes

And saw his revered

Firebird, the phoenix.

The creature of life

Chose to resurrect Rhys

So that he may become

An example to us all.

I smiled foolishly at the compliment. I had become an example to my kingdom. After all the discrimination and ridicule I had faced throughout my life, I was now considered a hero—an ideal.

"It was his love that saved us all.

Had he borne a selfish flame,

Bamarre would be but a memory.

But instead, he loved us all so much

That he would endure

A painful death

To save the multitudes."

Addie gazed at me lovingly.

"When scoffers scoff,

When the ingrates are thankless,

When the contemptible are insolent,

Love them anyway

With a burning

Heart of flame."

Addie finished with a curtsy.

I loved it. I clapped wildly. I still couldn't comprehend the thought of someone wanting to make a poem of my adventure. After declaiming like that, I wanted to hold her again to show my affectionate thanks. I remembered seeing a stone bench in the gazebo, just big enough for two. Wanting to sit there, I twisted my torso to face it. "Addie, let's sit on the bench under the gazebo."

She shook her head. "No, I'd rather stay here in the sunlight," she declined gently. "It's warmer."

Was that so? I could change that. Smirking, I pulled out my baton and pointed it at the sky.

Worriedly, Addie looked at the darkening sky. "Rhys, what are you doing?"

I ignored her. With a grand gesture, I made the wind blow colder and harder, making her grab her arms for warmth.

"Rhys, stop it, it's getting cold," she said now shivering.

To make the weather worse, I flicked my arm at the sky. Within seconds, cold rain poured from the sky.

"Rhys!" Addie chided, running toward the gazebo.

I got up and joined her under the gazebo.

Addie shivered next to me.

I opened my arms, offering warmth, even though I was the cause of her discomfort.

She sighed in defeat and hugged me for warmth.

I wrapped my warm cloak around us and held her.

Addie looked adorable with her head poking out of the slit, staring up at me with hopeful eyes. Her expression made her look ten years younger. "Rhys, please make it stop," she begged still shivering.

I couldn't resist her request any longer. After all, I got what I wanted. I made the weather go back to normal and I dried her clothes magically.

Leading her to sit on the bench, Addie followed and sat down beside me.

We didn't speak for a long time. We were savoring the feeling of being alone, uninterrupted. These moments were rare. I longed for alone time like what we had during our short-lived childless days. But of course, I had no regrets. If given the opportunity, I wouldn't change a thing. Us sitting side by side, doing nothing, reminded me of the song Meryl sang at our wedding. "Tarry with me, my love, at my side," I said, which was exactly what we were doing.

After Addie ate breakfast from the tablecloth we spent the rest of the day alone in the fields and skies of Bamarre, just tarrying without a care in the world. I missed those days when we would fly over Bamarre and explore. Getting to do that again was the greatest opportunity. As we soared above Bamarre, we reminisced about our first year of marriage, celebrating our first anniversary with R.J., raising two babies at once, watching the children grow into young adults, and much more. We didn't come home until five in the afternoon.

Addie guided me to the ballroom, claiming she had musicians waiting for us to have a dance. She knew I loved to ballroom dance. It was a hobby of mine that I didn't get to indulge in often enough. We needed to host more royal balls, in my opinion, but they were an unnecessary expense.

I gallantly opened the door for my wife and as soon as I entered, I heard, "Happy birthday, Prince Rhys!"

Everyone was in the ballroom. Our castle servants, who were also my friends, Meryl and Drualt the fairies, and my children. To my utter shock, Orne was there too, standing with Henry.

I went over to Orne and Henry and thanked them for coming.

Orne looked displeased. A part of me wanted to know why, but another part didn't want to. Orne was glaring at Daria, the twins, and Eliza, who was being held by a nursemaid. "So it appears you had more children, Rhys," he stated in a tranquil fury. "When are you going to stop?" he asked rhetorically. "After fifty? You're not much of a sorcerer if you can't control your—"

"Father!" the twins squealed as they flew into my arms.

I chuckled as they clung to my chest, squeezing. "Hello, boys." I hugged them back.

They looked at me with their precious blue eyes and said in unison, "Happy birthday!" They finally released me and flew off elsewhere, allowing me to follow Addie to the long food table. The table had platefuls of finger foods, from cheeses to fruits to pastries. Tonight I would eat the tasty-looking food. I couldn't resist. I followed Addie's lead and loaded a plate with food and sat down at the circular royal family table. I was the first to sit.

After setting her plate down next to mine, Rosie hugged me and kissed my cheek and wished me a happy birthday. Then R.J. and Matilda sat down and hugged me, followed by Daria, and then Merry (sans the hug). Minutes later, Addie sat down with the twins after a lengthy process of filling their plates.

When we finished eating, it was time to open the presents that were placed in the center of the table. Bella, Milton, Meryl and Drualt, Orne, and Henry pulled up their chairs to sit near the family table so they could join the festivities, and the servants gathered behind.

"Who wants to go first?" asked Addie, looking around for volunteers.

"I'll go first," said Bella, reaching for her gift. She handed me a small gift box.

I took the box and eyed it suspiciously before shaking it.

"Just open it," she barked.

Grinning, I said, "You're no fun. I was going to guess what was inside."

"Well, if you keep doing that, we'll be here all night," Bella sassed.

"I've got time," I teased, grabbing the lid.

Bella sighed with exasperation. I won. Occasionally, the proper governess and I would butt heads, as she was the only servant bold enough to oppose me over things, but at the end of the day, we cared for each other like family. In my eyes, she was almost like a mother-in-law.

Addie jabbed my ribs with her elbow to silence me.

I pulled out a bottle of liquid and a polishing cloth. I looked at Bella for confirmation.

"It's for polishing your golden baton," she explained.

For a second I was tempted to ruffle her feathers by saying I could use the doily she gave me as another polishing cloth, but I decided it was best not to. I didn't need Bella exploding at me on my birthday.

I set the contents back in the box and nodded at her. "Thank you," I said, genuinely grateful. "This will come in handy." Sometimes my baton got dirty and the only thing I had to clean it with were my clothes.

Addie took the opened box and moved it to another table. "Who wants to go next?"

Milton stood. "I'll go." He handed me his gift.

I opened it and saw tiny dried seeds inside the box, rolling around.

"These grant a short burst of energy, meaning they will enhance your agility for a short while. So next time you're in a hurry, eat one of these and it will nearly double your flying speed."

That sounded interesting. I looked forward to using them. I thanked him and gave the box to Addie, who placed it with my first gift.

The twins went next. They handed me two pages from a sketch book. One was a drawing of me riding on what I presumed was a phoenix and the other was a picture of me stabbing Jafe.

"Today Bella taught us _Heart of Flame_ and how you saved Bamarre," Gavin said. "You have a heart of flame, Father."

"It's now considered a compliment to tell someone they have a heart of flame," Bella informed me primly. "It means they have a compassionate, sacrificial heart."

I didn't know that. Hopefully, that meant humans would not fear sorcerers anymore. It would be wonderful for us to coexist in peace.

"You're brave, Father," said Drualt.

I smiled at Drualt's statement. I thanked and hugged them.

Daria went next. I opened hers: It was a beaded embroidered pouch for my waist that bore an "R" on the front. The background color was black and the detailing was white so it could match practically everything I wore. Inside the pouch it said "Father." I looped my belt through the pouch straps. Perfect.

Henry told me his would be at the citadel and R.J. reminded me of his early present (not that I forgot), but then claimed he had another present.

Rosie volunteered to go next. Nervously, she explained hers wasn't material, which was fine with me; I was just glad she was there. I reassured her it was all right. She took a deep breath and lifted into the air higher than any distance my daughter, Meryl, could achieve. My baby was flying! Rosie came back down and said, "Let's go flying tomorrow."

She wanted to go flying again! It made me so happy. My cheeks ached from the intensity of my smiles.

"Also, I've been meaning to tell you that I can hear the summons. It's very faint, but I can still hear them," said Rosie. "I'm not physically drawn like you are, but I feel compelled to follow the source of the summons."

"With the persuasion of these two fairies," Orne began, gesturing at Meryl and Drualt, "the High Council has granted you permission to start bringing Rosie to the citadel. They will test her to see if her magical abilities are strong enough to undergo an apprenticeship."

"Yes!" I exclaimed, shooting six feet into the air, arm raised victoriously above my head. Finally! One of my kids would get to experience my heritage and what I do there. However, Rosie was going to stand out, considering how she had straight, light brown hair and was merely five feet tall—much shorter than even the shortest sorcerer at the citadel. Regardless, it was an amazing gift.

"Calm down, Rhys," said the stoic Orne.

I did as he commanded and sat down.

"Who's next?" asked Addie.

Matilda stood and smiled. "I can't give you mine yet; it's not here," she said, holding her hands in front of her.

R.J. stood beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist.

Then Matilda placed her hands on her stomach. "It's here." She paused before adding, "I'm pregnant with your first grandchild."

My flame roared with excitement. Addie and I happily embraced and congratulated them. We were going to be proud grandparents!

The thought of a sorceress impregnated by a half sorcerer was intriguing. That has probably never happened before. The future sovereign of Bamarre was going to be three-fourths sorcerer and one-fourth human. I wondered if it would inherit magical abilities or longevity. I couldn't wait to meet our newest member of the family. But me, a grandfather? I wasn't sure I was old enough for that. After all, I was just one hundred years old.

No wonder Matilda insisted on holding Eliza every time she was near. Matilda was getting in practice for whenever hers was born. I should have known.

Orne glowered at Matilda. "You're with child?" he asked venomously. Without giving her a chance to answer, he rested his shaking head in his hand and sighed, muttering in Sorcerian.

I had to refrain from laughing or else Orne would have chastised me. I was sure a lecture about my bad influence was in order during my next visit to the citadel.

After no one else stood to present a gift, Addie cued some servants to bring in her gift. It took two servants to bring in a rolled up tapestry. The servants laid the tapestry down and unrolled it, revealing the most elaborate embroidered depiction I had ever seen. This was without a doubt her finest work. It was a vibrant scene from _Heart of Flame _with me clad in full armor, eyes closed, head up, and arms held out. Above me was the phoenix with its tail feathers spread, granting my wish. Not quite exactly how it happened, but I preferred it this way for the sake of symbolism. Addie said it took over a year to finish. I believed it.

Gavin stared jealously at the tapestry and blurted, "Mine is better."

We laughed. That sounded like something my jealous son would say.

"We have gifts for you, Rhys," said Meryl, glancing at Drualt and then me. The fairy stood and made her way over to Merry's chair.

My daughter looked over her shoulder at her fairy godmother with curiosity.

"My gift to my favorite brother-in-law is giving Merry the gift of obedience." The fairy smirked.

I gasped and Merry looked at me with horror. I didn't want any of my children to be bound to obey, no matter how great it sounded as a parent. "I don't want—"

The fairy put her hand on her hip and glared at me. "You're refusing a gift from a fairy?"

I stood there stupidly, not knowing how to reject a gift from a super being.

"I'm just teasing," Meryl said, waving her hand. She eased Merry's fright by patting her back.

Admittedly, it sounded like a great idea, but I knew it was best for my child to have free will no matter how many times I wanted to strangle her when she acted up.

"But Dru and I really do have gifts for you." She looked at Drualt. "Dru, why don't you go first?"

Upon request, I joined him and waited.

Drualt held out his hands, palms up, and then in a flash of light, something long materialized above his hands. The light dissipated into Storm. "I've made some adjustments to the sword. Now only you can wield it. Only when you name a successor will it activate for anyone else."

I wanted to see what he meant about others not being able to wield it. I took the floating sword and asked R.J. to grab the handle. His hand went right through it! When Drualt said no one could wield it, he really meant it.

Meryl excitedly ushered everyone outside so we could see her present. She told us to watch the stars. The fairy flew so fast it was as if she had disappeared. Then we saw the stars move jerkily into a new formation. At first it was a heart, then inside the heart there was a baton, and then she topped the heart with a flame. It looked just like my wine glass I got from Queen Seema.

I blinked and Meryl was standing in front of me. "Do you like it?" she asked.

Still filled with the amazement that she had just made a constellation that represented me, I exclaimed, "I love it!"

"Now do you see why fairies sometimes visit the elders? Sometimes we are asked to make constellations or do other favors," said Meryl.

Regardless, it was remarkable. Fairies were amazing. Then I wondered if sorcerers were ever turned into fairies, but now wasn't the time to ask. Perhaps some other time.

There were no more presents. The servants brought out the birthday cake made by Daria. The cake had three parts: a "1", a "0", and another "0", and was lit with one hundred candles, making the frosting on top superfluous.

I sighed elaborately and wagged my head. I couldn't believe they actually lit a hundred candles for me. I turned to Addie and said, "On your one hundredth birthday, I'm doing this to you so you'll know how it feels."

She laughed and began leading the Bamarrian birthday song. Everyone joined in.

When the song was over, I gestured at the candles. "Do you expect me to blow out all these candles by myself?" I joked.

"Yes!" they all said in unison.

I pulled out my baton, ignoring Orne's protests, and made the tiny flames float above the candles. Waving my hands in an outward motion, I divided the group of flames and sent them to float in front of everyone sitting near the table. I urged them to blow them out before blowing out the ones in front of me.

After blowing out the candles, everyone clapped, except Orne, who sat there, displeased by my public display of magic, and then everyone moseyed over to the dancefloor.

To officially start the dance, it was customary in Bamarre for the sovereigns to dance alone on the dance floor. Addie and I did just that. It took us years to get as skilled as we were at dancing. We took lessons early in our marriage (mainly for me, since Addie already knew how to ballroom dance), and I loved them. Surprisingly, I caught on to dancing at a fast rate for a sorcerer. That was probably because I loved doing it so much. Dancing with Addie was... magical, was the best I could describe it. Clearly, "magical" to me was different than "magical" for a human.

Once our dance was over, the area was open to anyone who wanted to dance. Matilda and R.J. danced and so did some servants. That night was an unusual occasion for the servants to be able to party with royalty. Addie knew I would want them there. To me, they were like family. I saw them every day, some did my laundry, some cleaned up after me, and some took care of my children. How could I not see them as such? It was probably the commoner in me.

After a few waltzes, they played Merry's favorite waltz. A part of me ached when I heard the intro. It was our waltz from years ago.

Addie and everyone else left my side to stand back.

Confused, I reached out to Addie, but she wouldn't take my hand. Why was she leaving me alone on the dance floor? This felt awkward. Was this some birthday joke? I didn't think it was funny.

Merry emerged from the crowd and walked gracefully to me. She wore an elegant pink gown that resembled a dress from her childhood—the dress she wore for our first aerial ballroom dance. As she approached, I imagined her being six years old again. I remembered her smile, her laughter, her hugs, her sweet demeanor—everything. Merry held out her hand and said softly, "Yes, we shall."

Not registering what she meant, I asked, "What?"

"Your letter," she replied. "You asked if we shall dance again, and my answer is yes."

My flame danced in my chest. I couldn't believe my ears. Merry, the child I conflicted with the most, had offered a dance. Overjoyed, I kissed her hand before leading her into the dance.

We waltzed for a while before Merry spoke. Her solemn face told me something was wrong. "Father, there is something I must say..." She hesitated. "Although you may not like to hear it." She fell silent. "It concerns me"—she paused—"and the family's name."

"You needn't say it now if you're not ready," I murmured.

"No, I must." Her voice sounded odd, as though she had a cold, but I knew she didn't. She sounded just like I did when something was troubling me that I needed to express.

I wished she would just say it. I was becoming worried that she had killed something else.

Merry breathed deeply and looked me in the eye. "I'm pregnant."

For a moment I forgot to breathe. I didn't think I heard right. "You're—"

"Yes," she finished.

She couldn't be—not my baby girl. She was still ten years old in my mind. I didn't believe it—I didn't _want_ to believe it. "Meryl, don't tease," I chastised. "This better not be a birthday prank."

"I'm telling the truth, Father. I'm with child."

My flame sank. The royal family had been disgraced. In Bamarre and most kingdoms, a princess must be pure for her future consort, but there was an easy solution. "You shall be wed at once," I said.

She shook her head stubbornly. "I don't want anything to do with him," she spat. "Once I told him the news and insisted we marry, he told me that he didn't love me and denied that the baby was his." Merry began to tear up. "He's even started spreading rumors that I sleep with several knights to cover up what he did."

My flame sank even lower for her. I wanted to punch Edward in the face and then turn him into a chicken for deserting my daughter in her time of need. What kind of a man was he? He wasn't one. He was a piece of scum for getting the princess with child, and then once he had an obligation, he ran like a coward. If we could prove that the baby was his, Addie and I would disgrace him by stripping him of his title. But doing so without proof would cause a feud between Addie and her nobility. Addie's army may have been strong, but she could not fight several of her noble houses at once if they chose to rally against her. Lord George was of high nobility and had close ties with the other high-ranking noblemen. He was also known for overreacting over small matters, so an accusation against his heir would undoubtedly cause a dispute. "What did your mother say about this?" I asked, still fuming inwardly at Sir Scumbag.

"She's furious at Edward and disappointed in me."

I figured as much.

Merry's tears fell. "I can't believe this is happening. I'm disgraced," she stated despairingly. "I loved him. He promised to marry me, which was why I… gave myself to him."

I would have never have done that to Addie. I loved Addie so much I wanted to make her my wife as soon as possible. I put a charm around her neck, like an honorable man should. I didn't disgrace her so I could boast about it.

Merry moved closer and gazed at me with fearful eyes. "Father, I'm so scared," she whispered. "I'm going to raise a child without its father," she choked. Merry averted her eyes. "I feel so... alone," she breathed.

It had been years since I last saw her petrified with fear. Her war training prepared her for battle, but not for something like this. She may have brought it upon herself, but I still pitied her situation. What Edward did was unbelievably low, and I hated to see Merry in such a predicament. Unlike the Great Monster War, she had no choice but to suffer the long-term consequences. Her life would forever be changed now that she was responsible for another.

But then I thought of the good that would come of it. I was going to have another grandbaby. It would be fascinating to see R.J.'s child, who would mostly be sorcerer, and Merry's child, who would mostly be human. I couldn't wait to meet my grandbabies, though it was best to keep Merry's pregnancy quiet until it could no longer be hidden, whereas R.J.'s wonderful news would be announced first thing tomorrow.

"Well," I said gently, "you're not alone. Your mother and I will be here for you. While we won't raise the child for you, we will help you however we can. Your baby will grow up in a loving environment. Take comfort in that."

Merry nodded miserably. Nothing I could say at the moment could erase her pain. For the first time, my proud, spirited daughter had to face severe consequences. Not only did she become with child out of wedlock, but she had also caused a war. Only a kind, loving man would want her. Royalty and nobility wanted to wed maidens, not sixteen-year-old mothers. Even though she had brought shame upon herself, I still ached for my daughter—my dancing princess.

We were silent for a while, listening for the beat of the music. Meryl was the first to speak. "Father."

"Hmm?"

"After reading your letter, I thought about you and the things that you've done," she said, looking into my eyes. "Last night, Mother and I had a talk about how I've been treating you. I knew this at the time, but now that I'm in the situation that I'm in, I now realize something."

I raised a brow. Was I dancing with a specter? Was my headstrong child's view of me changing?

"Jafe demanded my heart as recompense..." Her eyes watered. "But you refused." The tears fell. "That war was started because you wouldn't let him kill the one who was truly responsible," she stated. "You fought that war to protect me."

"Yes," I said intently.

"I now know that Edward wouldn't have done that for me." She looked at me with the blue eyes I gave her. "And it's because he didn't really love me."

I stared at her for a moment, too stunned to speak. "I meant it whenever I would tell you that I would fight battles for you, and I would fight another if necessary." I quickly thought of my error in saying that. "But please don't start another," I said in a rush. Feeling overjoyed, I pulled her closer—to be closer to my baby.

She chuckled, lifting her spirits. Once Merry stopped chuckling, she began again. Her tears returned, but this time it was a flood. "I'm... sorry for all the damage I have done. I made a huge mess of things for everyone, but especially you," her voice quaked, streams falling from her eyes. "No matter what terrible things I've done and said, you still love me deeper than I can imagine and deserve. I've caused you great pain, and I am truly sorry. I want to start over."

We stopped dancing. It was as though she had grown before my very eyes. However, it was a shame that it took something that devastating for her to understand my never ending love for her. I embraced her tightly for a long time, and she did the same.

"I love you, Papa," she whispered.

"I love you too, my beautiful dancing princess." I felt my eyes sting with tears of happiness. I didn't think we'd reconcile this soon. This was the greatest gift of all. My joy and excitement peaked. And just in time too. The waltz was quickening. To relive the past, I lifted Merry and she responded by flying on her own with me. We twirled together higher and higher until I raised her above my head at the end of the waltz. And like the past, she giggled as I brought her back down. I kissed her forehead, but then she kissed my cheek.

I didn't want to end our reunion just yet. After all, we hadn't spent quality time together in years. We began to talk softly during the next waltz. I desperately wanted to know what went wrong between us so that I could prevent it from happening again. She told me it was because I was too protective and too smothering. Also, she claimed that my physical and verbal forms of affection were too much. According to Merry, her mother treated her like an adult, whereas I treated her like a baby, which made sense, considering how I was more outwardly affectionate to the kids than Addie was, probably due to the example she was shown. Addie was far more affectionate to our kids than her father was to her, but I was still the more affectionate parent. I made a mental note to tone down the affection and protectiveness and to pay closer attention to how Addie interacted with Merry so I could duplicate it. I was curious to see if it would work. I asked her to tell me whenever I did those undesirable behaviors in the future and she agreed.

The other party-goers reentered the dance floor. I bowed and Merry curtsied before she went to go sit down.

Wanting to be with my wife again, I searched for Addie. As I searched, I noticed R.J. and Rosie dancing happily together and my other children talking to servants. I finally found Addie standing near the glass doors that led outside, gazing at me. I knew that look all too well. She wanted me to follow her. As I pursued her, Addie opened a door and went outside.

She sat on the stone railing—the same railing her parents sat on decades ago on the night they first met, and motioned for me to sit beside her.

I complied.

We didn't speak for a while.

"I hope everything is to your liking," she said, ending the silence.

It was more than my _liking_. I loved it! "This is by far the best birthday I've ever had." Not that the ones in the past were subpar, it's just that this one was magnificent. I got everything I could ever want and more. This century would probably outshine the next simply because Addie probably wouldn't be there to make my two hundredth birthday as special. The thought saddened me, so I pushed it from my mind to enjoy the remainder of my evening.

"I'm glad," Addie said warmly, caressing my thigh.

I had an idea. "However, it would be better with one more thing."

Addie met eyes with me and waited for my response. She seemed worried that she failed to plan everything perfectly, which was not the case at all.

I got up and took her hands, guiding her to stand. I held her bridal style and flew straight up to the clouds. When our feet dangled above the cumulus clouds, I lowered myself onto the fluffy layer, as if it were solid. I told Addie to hang on tightly so I could grab my baton. Slowly, I waved my baton horizontally and told her to put her weight down.

Addie complied apprehensively. She eased one foot down and then the other, afraid of falling through. Even if that happened, I would catch her—always. Though, the rascal in me secretly hoped it would happen so I could be her hero and show her how fleet I was airborne, even though she already knew. Impressing her never got old. It was my pleasure to demonstrate my worthiness of being her husband. Taking Addie's hand, I raised it above her head and twirled her around, her ball gown billowing out, causing the nearby clouds to wisp around her.

The silver stars and crescent moon flickered in the dark sky, giving the clouds a soft, romantic glow. We had to come here more often for date nights. It was a must, and I would enforce it.

We sat down and kissed leisurely, without a care in the world. We could tarry there all night for all I cared. Then I remembered the stanza from our wedding.

"Stay with me

When battle is done.

Tarry at my side.

Laugh with me,

And walk with me

The long, long way.

Tarry with me,

My love, at my side,"

I declaimed for her.

She smiled, holding my hand. Addie stroked my cheek lovingly. "I will forever be grateful that you had the courage to ask for my hand," said Addie.

I smiled back at her. "And I will forever be grateful to you for saying yes," I added. I was. I had never been more nervous in my life. During my proposal, my flame roared so viciously I thought it would burn a hole through my chest, but it was worth it. Ignoring my doubts was the best thing I had ever done. "I was nervous both times."

"But you managed nonetheless."

She was right.

Addie sang,

"Twist and twine

Your days with mine,

Your years with mine.

Cling close and never part.

Twist and twine

Your hairs with mine."

I moved her into my lap to be even closer than what we already were. "I love you, Addie," I said gently.

"I love you too," she whispered back, initiating another kiss.

We embraced tightly as the kiss became passionate.

With our days and years intertwined as one, we would conquer the many life events to come in the shared adventure we called marriage.

* * *

**I want to thank all my readers who made it this far, and I hope you enjoyed the story. I want to give special thanks to jblockk for your detailed reviews and to John for your detailed verbal feedback and help. But most of all, I want to give special thanks to my husband, Andy, for helping me brainstorm EVERY single detail of this fic. Without you, this story wouldn't exist, and I eagerly await starting a family with you, my love.**

**If you haven't already done so, please leave a review. :)**

**Also, if you enjoyed this one, have a look at my other TPoB fic called "The Lost Tale."  
**


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